


HIATUS - Blue and Bruised

by DizzyBunnies



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hunk (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Langst, Samoan Hunk (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-19 17:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9453098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyBunnies/pseuds/DizzyBunnies
Summary: While saving innocent citizens from a minefield, Lance and the Blue Lion take a beating. Lance's high brain activity threatens the use of a healing pod, so the team venture out to find a plant that may help Lance's healing process. What's causing his brain activity to be so high? And why isn't it letting up?





	1. The Belladov

**Author's Note:**

> howdy yall  
> ok so this is my first fanfic up in this joint! tho i DO have an FFnet (dizzybunnies), but its for other fandoms and i dont use it anymore bc ao3 is my new fanfic bae  
> just a note: the summary is essentially chapters 1 & 2, and i would put more info but i dont want the whole plot to be spoiled in the summary.  
> another note: the pairings i tagged are all PLATONIC/FLUFF. no romance up in here sorry m8s.  
> anywho i hope u like. HMU on tumblr if u wanna chat abt anythin voltron or just anythin period lmao (URL is dizzybunnies)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello all xx  
> so i am rly new to ao3, and this is my first fanfic on here. i hope i am accepted into the voltron ~~trash~~ community.  
>  and um btw shameless self-plug, can u check out my amv??? (i dont even kno if im allowed to do this but ya)  
> here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rU_ym5Wz110  
> hint if it wasnt obvious: its an angsty lance amv  
> ok thank xx

Lance noticed two things. One, it was very dark. Two, he was hurting. Badly. All over.

He groaned and put a hand to his head, blinking a few times to adjust his eyes to the darkness that was Blue. Not even the backup lights flickered; she was completely down. The cockpit was barely illuminated by the now-dimmed lights on his armour. Lance sighed, letting his arm drop to his side. His side…

He glanced down without moving a muscle, and noticed a small patch of blood inked around his side, trickling its way to the ground. He placed his hand on the injury and pushed hard, trying to stop the bleeding, and hissed.

_Well, that fuckin’ hurt._

“— _nce!_ ”

What was that?

Lance looked over to his helmet that had come off during the impact. Its lit rims proved helpful in locating it. He heard muffled screams coming from the communicator inside the device and strained to hear what his teammates were trying to say.

“ _Lance! Do you copy? Lance!”_

_“C’mon, dude! Lance!”_

He heard multiple voices on the other end; most likely his four teammates plus the princess and Coran. He strived to talk back to them, to tell them he was alive, but he couldn’t reach his helmet.

Why was he bleeding, anyway?

He looked down at his armoured suit, and, looking right next to him (thanks to the illumination of the lit patches on his armour) saw a gaping hole on the side of Blue.

_An explosion._

Images and memories came pouring back into his mind—the bombs, the yells…

 _“Lance, to your left! Look out!”_ Shiro had warned him, but Lance hadn’t seen it in time.

He smirked slightly at his own stupidity. If the situation wasn’t so serious, he probably would have downright laughed out loud.

The team had been on a mission to rescue a small civilization from a field of landmines. Having been deemed too large to fit the bill, Voltron had not been formed, and instead, the team had swiftly navigated around the bombs by lion. A tiny family of three—a mother, father and daughter—had been standing right in the middle of a large mass of the landmines, and Lance and Hunk had gone after them while the others had tended to the rest of the civilians.

Lance had barely been able to push Yellow (who was by then carrying the three civilians) out of the way before the bomb had gone off. Blue had gone flying, landing harshly on yet another landmine, causing a domino effect.

And so, five or six explosions later…

Lance hissed once more; merely thinking about it caused his entire being to throb in agony.

 _“Lance, we’re coming for you. Don’t you dare give up on us!”_ It was Keith.

Cute.

 _“We see you, Lance! We’re going for a landing.”_ Pidge.

Lance huffed, and with one swift movement, tossed his upper body forward as if reaching for his toes, and grabbed his helmet. He slapped it sloppily onto his head and leaned back against the wall. He heard his teammates much clearer.

 _“Lance, do you copy? If you hear us, say something!”_ Shiro—and he sounded extremely worried.

 _“Don’t worry, man, we’re almost there.”_ Hunk, sounding surprisingly calm.

Lance decided to use whatever strength he assumed he had left to respond.

“Copy…”

_“Lance!”_

He heard his teammates screaming his name; in either worry or joy, he wasn’t sure. Shiro shushed them and took over.

_“Lance, are you alright?”_

He tried to shift his weight into a more comfortable position, but failed, collapsing to the floor on his side. His head bopped to the ground, sending a wave of nausea throughout his already pained body. He had clearly hit his head earlier during the force of the impact. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm himself before his breakfast made an unwanted visit.

“Dunno…” Was all he could say.

_Fuck._

Keith pushed as hard as he could on his controls, sending Red skyrocketing to Lance’s location. Shiro followed suite, and before long, the two were landing beside a heavily damaged Blue. Less than a few ticks later, Green and Yellow landed beside them, but Keith and Shiro were already running inside Blue.

Pidge ran out, but paused slightly to take in the damage caused to Blue.

“Holy…”

She walked over to the gaping crater on Blue’s side, stroking the robot as if comforting it. She then heard Hunk call her, and she mumbled an apology to Blue as she made a dash to the inside, following her teammates.

By the time she had caught up, Hunk, Shiro and Keith were surrounding an unconscious Lance.

“Pidge, try and assess the damage.” Shiro ordered, not taking his eyes of off the Blue Paladin. Pidge wordlessly obeyed, and walked back to the hole she had been examining a moment prior.

“Lance, buddy, you have to wake up…” Hunk said sadly, kneeling down to join Shiro and Keith.

Pidge narrowed her eyes at the hole in Blue’s side. She traced her fingers along melted metal, thinking to herself how bad the damage really was up close. She felt a pang in her chest—almost as though the lion was communicating its pain to her, though she knew that could probably really only happen to Lance. Lance…

She turned around, quickly stealing a glance at the commotion behind her. Shiro had sat the unconscious boy up, holding his head in his hands and trying to wake him up. Hunk was taking off the bottom of Lance’s armour suit, leaving nothing but his white coverall on underneath.

Pidge sighed, returning her attention back to Blue. The hole, while huge and (still) gaping, had luckily only been in place of hard metal and plastic, it seemed. No electrical necessities had been damaged. Standing up from her crouched position on the floor, Pidge came to a conclusion.

“Well, there’s good news and bad news.” She declared, earning Shiro and Keith’s attention.

“What’s the bad news?” Shiro asked, gently shifting Lance’s head into Hunk’s arms. He stood up and folded his arms, eyeing her closely.

“The bad news is that I don’t know what caused the power to go out. Like, what did it specifically.”

“The good news?” Keith asked in disbelief.

She smiled slightly, hoping her good news was indeed good news to the rest of her team.

“It’s not going to be a bad repair, considering the hole was only made through metal and plastic. No wires, no heat, no switches—just pure metal and plastic. Easy to fix.”

Keith stood up next to Shiro.

“So, to fix Blue, we just patch up the hole, right?” He asked.

Pidge shrugged.

“ _And_ , we have to find out what messed up the power—and its backup generator.”

Hunk had suddenly stood up, Lance completely knocked out on his back.

“Easy, the generator fell out of the hole on the side, and the power went out because the impact obviously loosened a connection in the breaker area. We just need to figure out what connection was loosened.” He explained as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Now can we please get Lance back to the castle?” He pleaded, expression turning serious.

The three paladins facing him nodded, and they slowly made their way out of Blue. Pidge lagged behind slightly, looking back up at the massive blue feline with an apologetic expression.

“Sorry, girl. We’ll come back for you. Lance will come back for you. Promise.” She whispered, giving the lion one last pat before jogging to catch up with the others.

 

* * *

 

Lance wasn’t sure what woke him, but he didn’t like it. Why couldn’t he just go back to sleep? And why, despite having his eyes closed, was it so damn bright?

Without realising it, he let out a soft groan—his head was pounding, and he was pretty sure the nausea from before was returning. Why couldn’t he just stay asleep?

“—‘s waking up.”

Huh, ‘waking up’. Obviously, someone was talking about him. Who? While the pain he was in was familiar, his surroundings were not, and neither was that voice—at least, not yet while he was still half asleep.

He opened an eye—almost immediately regretting it—and took in the _spectacular_ scenery. White walls, white ceiling, white curtains, and steady beeping. Obviously the infirmary. But why wasn’t he in a pod? Why were his teammates, Coran, and Allura huddled around a computer halfway across the room? He opened a second eye and glanced upwards, noticing a bag of sugar water dangling on a pole, connected to an I.V. His eyes followed the I.V. until they reached his hand, where the cord was connected to. Sugar water…he must have been dehydrated.

He attempted to turn to his side, suddenly very uncomfortable on his back, but stopped as his entire being erupted in pain.

“Santa madre de Jesús, _¡que duele!_ ”

While he hadn’t intended on being loud, his curse rang clear through the infirmary, rewarding him six heads turning towards his direction.

“I think he’s in pain,” Pidge tried lightly (and in no way at all sarcastic nope not in the slightest _not at all_ ), vaguely gesturing towards the paladin in question, “you guys take care of that while I keep watch on his numbers.” Or, in other words, _I don’t want to deal with him because I don’t know how so you guys do the human-feely-touchy stuff and I’ll do the number-math-medical stuff._

Shiro and Allura made their way over to Lance, while Coran walked over to change the bag dangling from the pole beside his bed. Keith and Hunk stayed behind, however.

“You don’t want to go see him, Hunk?” Pidge questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“In the state he’s in right now? I don’t know if I can handle that…” Hunk trailed off, hugging his midsection.

Keith waved an arm at him, grinning.

“Pfft. Scared of blood?” He teased.

Hunk straightened himself up as quickly as he could muster, and gave Keith a look.

“No. It’s just…unsettling.” He admitted, slouching his shoulders slightly.

Pidge nodded her understanding and turned back to the computer in front of her.

“Unsettling?” Keith repeated, folding his arms. Hunk nodded.

“Yeah. This is worse than the explosion. What if—”

Just then, Allura showed up in front of them, interrupting the Yellow Paladin.

“What if what?” She asked, hands on her hips.

Hunk sighed, ignoring her. He turned on his heel and walked out, mumbling something about going to bake.

Keith eyed the princess and shrugged, not knowing what was wrong with Hunk. Allura smiled back at him before turning around to get a view of the bed Lance was laying on.

She and Shiro had given him pain medication, but it was clearly too much or something, considering Lance had fallen straight back to sleep. At least he couldn’t feel his injuries while asleep. Shiro was crouched over him, muttering something nobody heard. He stayed a moment more before joining Keith and Allura.

“He’ll be alright for now, but we have to keep dosing him with the pain meds.” Shiro explained, his face expressionless.

“Aha!”

The three (and Coran, who had been tending to the sugar water) turned to face Pidge, who had let out some kind of victory yelp.

“What is it, Pidge?” Allura asked as everyone made their way over to her. Pidge looked up at everyone and smiled.

“So, you know how we can’t put Lance in a pod because his brain activity is too high?” She questioned, gesturing vaguely to one of the healing pods in the room.

Keith narrowed his eyes and folded his arms.

“Is that what it is?” He asked softly. He received a nod from Allura and an explanation from Coran as he walked over to them.

“It’s true! With brain activity this high, Lance may not be able to fully heal in the pod. We’re going to have to wait until his body is more relaxed.” He informed, almost too cheerfully.

“Wait, what does an active brain have to do with the healing process?” Keith asked.

“Apparently,” Coran began, “your people have this thing called, er, anesthetics?” He looked at Shiro for approval, and the Black Paladin nodded, allowing him to continue. “Anywho, while the pod supplies this, it could be dangerous to put him in there while his brain is still so alert.” He gestured to his own head, eyes wide. “He’d wake up! For the pod to properly heal the body, the user has to be asleep!” He went on, putting his hands to his face and closing his eyes as if sleeping. “It would be like operating someone without giving them enough… _anesthetics_.” He compared, pronouncing the last word with some difficulty. “He’d be in more pain then he is now.” He concluded, hands on his hips and seemingly proud of his explanation.

Everyone looked at him, wondering why the hell the man was so cheery in such a dire situation, but returned their attention to Pidge when she cleared her throat.

“Uh, yeah. Anyway. So, you know how we can’t put him in the pod, right?” To this, everyone nodded. “Well, it seems here that there is a plant…uh, it’s in Altean but—”

“Of course!” Allura exclaimed. Pidge frowned, upset with being interrupted _again_.

“Of course what?” Shiro questioned, looking at the princess.

“The belladov!” She clasped her hands together and joined Pidge on the other side of the computer. Indeed, the Altean writing spelled out ‘belladov’. “Pidge, you’re a genius!”

Pidge adjusted her glasses before eyeing the princess, skeptical.

“I am?” She asked, glancing back to her computer.

“Indeed! The belladov is a plant rich in minerals essential to the healing process!” She said, putting a hand on Pidge’s shoulder. “I had completely forgotten about it. Good work, Pidge.” She grinned at the Paladin, who smiled back at her.

Coran was already walking out of the room.

“I know the nearest planet to find them! I’ll go input the coordinates now!” He declared, proudly exiting the room.

“I’ll go create a wormhole to get us there.” Allura announced, right on Coran’s trail.

Shiro walked over to Pidge and clapped her on the back.

“Nice job, buddy.” He said softly, earning a smile from Pidge. “Alright, I’ll stay here and tend to Lance. Pidge, Keith, go find Hunk. You guys will go and get the plant.” He ordered, looking at the two Paladins in front of him with hope.

Keith glanced at Lance, then back at Shiro.

“You sure one of us shouldn’t stay? You should come with us to get the plant.” Keith pointed out, arms crossed.

Pidge hopped off her computer chair and walked over to the other two.

“He’s right. We might need you. And your lion,” she said.

Shiro turned around, looking over at Lance. The Paladin in question was still asleep, completely unaware of what was happening.

“Fine. Keith?” The pilot rose an eyebrow at the Red Paladin. Keith immediately held his hands out and took a step back.

“No, no, no. I’m going on the mission with you.” He huffed, folding his arms again. Shiro sighed and looked at Pidge, raising an eyebrow once more.

“I think I should come too. I know more info about the plant than any of you.”

Shiro rolled his eyes.

“One of you go find Hunk, please? Tell him he has to stay behind and watch over Lance. Explain what the plan is and to let us know if something happens.”

Keith and Pidge nodded, and before long, the Christmas-coloured duo were on their way to go find Hunk.

Before leaving, Shiro walked over to Lance’s bed. The boy’s breathing was clearly a struggle, and his side was tightly bandaged, following the decorative bandages on his left arm and cheek. Shiro put a hand to the Blue Paladin’s face, cupping the uninjured side softly.

“Hang tight, buddy. Help is on the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is basically what ive wanted in a fanfic but couldnt find. let's see how long this lasts. :^)


	2. Those Probably Aren't Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk doesn't want to babysit, and nobody knows why. Will they have to ask Shiro to stay behind, instead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dear god kill me, im sure theyre all ooc as fuck  
> um, warning about mentions of like throwing up and stuff??

“A bella-what?”

“A belladov. It’s a plant that can help Lance, but someone needs to stay behind and watch over him.” Pidge explained to Hunk, sitting on the kitchen counter.

Hunk put down the tray of ‘cookies’ he had made and put a hand to his chin in thought.

“Coran and Allura are going on this mission, too?” He asked, not understanding how he’d have to be in the ship alone.

Pidge rolled her eyes.

“Well, yes. They know what it actually looks like. Coran apparently even knows the planet we’re headed to.”

“And the princess?”

“We won’t be able to form Voltron if need be. Shiro thinks it’s best to have as many people with us as possible, just in case.”

Hunk undid his apron and started putting away his baking supplies.

“But I thought Coran knows the planet. Is it not peaceful? And doesn’t Allura have to stay behind to control the castle?” He questioned, putting away his oven mitts.

Pidge slid off the counter and started helping him.

“Who knows. Coran’s definition of ‘peaceful’ varies, I think. And we’re going to land on the planet, so the ship won’t need to be airborne.” Pidge replied, grimacing when she got close to the cookies’ burnt smell.

“And none of _you_ guys want to stay behind?” Hunk tried.

Pidge folded her arms and looked up at the older Paladin. He was clearly trying to get out of Lance-sitting.

“What’s up with you? Why don’t you want to watch over Lance?” She asked, keeping her firm look.

Hunk paused at her question and looked back at her nervously. To be honest, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure as to why he wanted to stay behind. He’d seen Lance hurt before—even shoved into a healing pod…but this was different. Lance wasn’t _in_ a pod this time. Watching over him wasn’t going to just be checking the pod or the computer every now and then. This time was different. What if he woke up and needed pain meds? What if he was so delirious that he didn’t know who Hunk was? What if Hunk didn’t know how to administer the pain medication and Lance had to bear with it until the others returned? Well, that settled it.

“Because I just don’t want to.” He said softly, putting his hands on the counter in front of him and leaning forward. He hung his head and let out a sigh. “I don’t think I can do it.”

Pidge sucked in a breath, thinking for a moment before letting it out.

“Hunk, aren’t you Lance’s best friend?”

Hunk nodded. There was no denying that.

“It’s gonna be hard, but right now he needs you. Probably more than he needs any of us.” She pointed out quietly. Hunk eyed her. Did she mean what he thought she meant? As if reading his mind, Pidge went on. “It’s not obvious, but it’s not impossible to find out, either. Lance is really homesick, isn’t he?”

The Yellow Paladin’s eyes widened. Should he answer truthfully, or keep Lance’s secret with him?

“Ha…aren’t we all?” He sputtered, laughing nervously.

“Yeah, but to a certain degree, I would assume.” She replied, folding her arms as she thought of what to say. “You clearly don’t mind being alone, right?” She asked, gesturing to the forgotten cookies on the counter. Hunk nodded slowly, not understanding where she was going with this. The Green Paladin continued. “Keith and Shiro—same deal. They train all the time on their own. Agree?” Hunk nodded again. “And me, well, you and Lance once found me sitting on the roof at school. Right?” Hunk showed his affirmation with yet another nod.

“Mm’kay, but what’s your point?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“My point: when have you ever seen Lance alone? Other than when we all go to sleep or shower or something?”

Hunk gave it a thought and realised Pidge was right. He didn’t recall ever leaving Lance on his own, and if he did, it was because someone else was with him.

“Also,” Pidge went on, “he has a large family, right? Imagine always being bombarded with music or yelling or vacuuming or the T.V. on or the dishwasher. Someone’s always doing something.”

Suddenly, a light bulb flicked on in Hunk’s head.

“Oh, gotcha. He’s not used to being alone.” He didn’t question her, but the rising intonation at the end of his sentence lead her to believe otherwise, causing her to confirm his statement.

“Exactly. If he’s gonna be alone—which he probably already has a problem with—then don’t you think he should have his best friend by his side?”

Without missing a beat, Hunk shot back.

“And if something goes wrong?!” He hadn’t meant to yell, but he had definitely raised his voice. Pidge didn’t falter, however.

“We’ll be on the comms—and what makes you think something would go wrong?”

Hunk threw his arms out in exasperation.

“Um, _everything_?” He replied, letting his arms fall to his side. “If his heart rate goes too high or low? If he starts bleeding again? If he wakes up screaming, or, uh, I dunno, uh, _stops breathing_?”

“You just added that last one to make your argument seem better!” Pidge countered, throwing her hands up.

“So what if I did?! My statement still stands!” Hunk replied swiftly, turning away from Pidge and crossing his arms.

Pidge sighed.

“Fine. I’ll tell Shiro he has to stay, then.” Pidge turned on her heel and marched out of the room, clearly frustrated.

Once he was sure she was gone, Hunk released the hold on his arms and sighed, leaning back against the counter.

Well, he'd better suit up.

 

* * *

 

Pidge was nearly at the control area when she bumped into Keith.

“Did you find him?” Keith asked, “I’ve looked everywhere.” He mumbled.

“Keith! Perfect.” Pidge exclaimed, grabbing Keith by the arm.

“Uh, where—”

“ _Shhhhh_!”

Pidge dragged him to the kitchen, nearly shoving him in, and walked right in after him. Hunk had already left.

“Quiznak!” She blurted out, grabbing Keith by the arm once more, dragging him out and into the hallway.

“Pidge, what are you—”

She let go of him and spun around to face him, inches away from his chest.

“Fine, if you _must_ know.” She sounded irritated.

“Know what?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hunk doesn’t want to watch over Lance.”

Keith blinked twice before cocking his head to the side.

“Wait, what? Why not?” He asked, folding his arms. Pidge shrugged in response, her eyes tracing the tiles on the ground. “Do we ask Shrio to stay behind? Or, uh…Allura, maybe?” Keith suggested. Pidge shook her head.

“We kind of needed them both with us.”

Before they could continue their conversation, they heard the static of the P.A. system, and a tick later, Coran’s booming (and always so cheerful) voice.

“Pidge! We’ve just collected the blue lion. We’ll need your help with the repairs!” To this, Pidge sighed.

“Keith, try and convince Hunk to stay, alright?” She called over her shoulder before making her way to the hangars. Keith sighed.

“Aw, quiznak.”

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take too long to find Hunk.

Keith had walked down the hallway to their quarters and heard mumbling coming from Hunks room. He knocked lightly, awaiting a response.

“Hunk? It’s Keith.”

Inside, Hunk sighed. He had been sitting on his bed (admittedly) talking to himself, not exactly wanting to 'suit up' like he had convinced himself he had wanted to a few minutes ago. He looked up at the door a moment before calling out for Keith to come in.

The Red Paladin walked in quietly, eyebrows furrowed.

“Pidge told me you didn’t want to stay behind?” He questioned, standing in front of the aspiring chef. Hunk shrugged quickly before averting his glare over to the _very fascinating mirror, wow_. “Hunk.” Keith called firmly, arms crossed.

“I’m not very good at taking care of people, _okay_?” Hunk said softly.

Keith threw his arms out.

“We’ll be gone for like, twenty minutes, max! We’re just going down, getting the plant, then coming back up.” He cried out. When Hunk didn’t reply, however, Keith let his arms drop to his side. “We can’t leave him alone, man.”

“Why don’t _you_ stay?” Hunk asked softly.

This caught the Red Paladin’s attention. While Hunk had entirely missed the point, Keith guessed he had the right to ask that question. He frowned. If Hunk thought he wasn’t good enough to take care of someone, he clearly didn’t know Keith well enough to understand that he was probably ten times worse. Come to think of it, Keith assumed there were most likely only two people on the ship that could probably, _decently_ , take care of someone—Coran or Shiro. He wasn’t even one hundred percent sure about Coran.

“I’m not great at taking care of people either, alright?” Keith admitted, huffing. “You’re the guy’s best friend. C’mon, man. We’re counting on you. _He’s_ counting on you.”

Hunk seemed to think for a moment before he closed his eyes and sighed again.

“Okay. I’ll do it.” He said, standing up. “But you guys gotta stay on the comms. Like, the whole time. I’ll need you in case something happens.” He said, extending his arm out. Keith nodded.

“Sure thing.” He replied, grabbing Hunk’s hand for a quick shake. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Four of the five Paladins surrounded their blue comrade in the infirmary. The Cuban boy had by then been changed into something more comfortable than the under-armour the gang had to wear. The Yellow Paladin (sans the Yellow) sat by his bedside, looking up at the others. After a small recap of what to do in their absence, the team was ready to meet Allura and Coran by the hangars.

“You’re sure you’re going to be alright?” Shiro asked for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Yeah, I guess.” Hunk answered, glancing over at his friend on the bed beside him.

“Remember to contact us if anything,” Keith reminded, eyeing him. Hunk nodded.

“And we’ll be back soon!” Pidge added, extending a fist out to the Yellow Paladin. Hunk glanced at it then up to its owner and smiled, returning the props.

They said their goodbyes and before long, everyone but Lance and Hunk were aboard the Black Lion and were out of the ship’s radius.

 

* * *

 

It was eerily quiet. A computer sat at the other side of the room, emitting short beeps every now and then, indicating a newly-updated rundown of Lance’s condition. Every time, Hunk caught himself rushing over to make sure everything was okay, before realising that he couldn’t read Altean. Coran had told him that if anything serious were to happen, the computer would let out a popup message. Hunk, while not capable of reading Altean, definitely knew what a popup message looked like. He hadn’t seen one as of yet.

And so, around ten minutes into the team’s unofficial mission, Hunk decided to stay by the computer. That way, he’d be able to see a popup message should there be one. He had heard Lance grunt a few times as well, but every time he looked over at his friend, the boy was still unconscious.

After the third or so groan, Hunk glanced at the computer, but there was no message. Just the regular information scrolling across the screen.

Lance was not eased, however, as the grunts increasingly got louder each time.

Finally, after Lance had shifted in his sleep and let out what seemed like a yelp, Hunk dashed over to his bedside, shaking the Blue Paladin’s shoulders.

“Lance? Are you awake? Do you hear me? Do you know who I am? Are you dreaming? Are you in pain? Do—”

“H-how about…you shut your quiznak.”

Hunk raised an eyebrow. Definitely not the response he expected. Then he realised something.

“My voice sounds fuzzy to you, doesn’t it? It’s Hunk.” The Yellow Paladin informed, a deadpan expression on his features.

To this, Lance opened an eye. Upon confirming that it was indeed Hunk, he opened his other eye and turned his head to look over at him.

“Oh. Heyyyy~…” He said weakly, trailing off.

Hunk smiled.

“By the way, you’re still not using that word correctly.” He pointed out. “How do you feel, man?” He asked, pulling his chair back to him and sitting down.

Lance propped himself up on his elbows, biting his lip.

“Never been better,” he replied bitterly.

Hunk saw him struggle and helped the shorter boy into a sitting position, putting pillows behind him to help him sit up.

“How are you, really?” Hunk asked.

Lance sighed, letting his head lean back against the pillows behind him. He looked up at the ceiling.

“Everything kinda hurts,” he admitted, closing his eyes. “My side feels like a Galra soldier ripped the flesh and muscle off of it and soldered it back on with lava.” He said, not sure if he was trying to lighten the mood in general or just make himself feel a bit better. It seemed to be both, however, because Hunk let out a small laugh. Lance smiled, glad he was able to lighten the mood.

However, he must have spoke—or thought, rather—to soon. His side suddenly throbbed, almost as if he was able to feel his heartbeat. He doubled over, hugging his midsection, and sucked in a breath through his teeth.

Hunk rose to his feet, arms hovering over his friend.

“L-Lance?” He sputtered out. “Talk to me, buddy, what’s wrong?!”

“H-hurts,” Lance rasped out, “a lot.”

“Um, like, more than—uh, is—only the—um…” Hunk began to panic, spinning around on himself to look around the room in hopes of finding the red bottle Shiro had told him about earlier. What was he supposed to do? That’s right…put the syringe into the bottle…pull it up to absorb the liquid…and insert the syringe into the connector on Lance’s I.V. Simple. Right? Right. Easy. Peachy. Everything was—

“H-Hunk, Hunk,” Lance called out as loud as he could muster, “I-I might, I think—”

Hunk turned around, his stress growing by the second. Lance looked like he was about to puke.

“Are you gonna—?”

Hunk decided against finishing his sentence. He knew. All to well. He was the… _expert_ in the arts of upchucking.

He grabbed the nearest container—a small, metal bucket that held a punch of pencils that he threw on to the floor—and dashed over to Lance just in the nick of time.

Lance tried to be quiet, Hunk could tell, but his insides won the battle and he heaved over and over. His eyes stung, his side burned, his head pounded—it was way too much. He sucked in all the air he could once it was over and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “didn’t really w-want you to see that.”

“Don’t worry about it, man.”

Hunk, admittedly, was grossed out. Even his own puke grossed him out—but someone else’s? Putting his own sudden queasiness aside, he ran over to the sink, dropped the contents of the container down the drain, rinsed it quickly, and made his way back to his friend. At least it seemed like he didn’t need the pain meds anymore.

“Are you feeling better?” Hunk asked worriedly. Lance brought his head out of his hands and leaned back, nodding slowly. “Good. That’s good.” Hunk said softly, though mostly to himself. “What happened?” He asked, sitting next to the bed and clapping a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“Dunno,” Lance replied, “my side really hurt, then my head started hurting, and then I started feeling sick…” he replied, shuddering.

Hunk nodded, removing his hand from Lance’s shoulder.

“Um, shock? Maybe. I think it’s from waking up so suddenly, and sitting up, and talking and stuff…Over-exerting yourself the second you woke up.” Hunk hypothesized, watching his friend carefully. “Also, Shiro said you hit your head, too. So…concussion, I guess.”

Lance sighed.

“Yeah. Maybe.” He hissed when his side throbbed again, wrapping both hands around the wound. “Um, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think I woke up earlier and…” he grimaced, trying to remember. However, Hunk cut him short.

“You freaked out, man.” Hunk replied, eyes dim. “Shiro and Allura basically drugged you back to sleep.”

Lance looked up at him, half smiling, half wincing in pain.

“Sounds like _the_ way to go to sleep.” 

Hunk smiled back at him, but frowned shortly after.

“Do you want…do you wanna go back to sleep?” He asked quietly.

Lance’s eyes widened.

“Uh, no. This is fine.” He said quickly, taking his hands away from his wound. “I’d rather talk with you.”

Hunk smiled.

“Sure. Sounds cool.”

Lance grinned back at him. They’d be fine. Hunk had calmed down, and Lance seemed alright for the time being.

Hunk didn’t even realise that he had forgotten to contact the others.

He didn’t really need to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls lemme know if they were ooc, or i wont be able to sleep at night


	3. A Kidnapping (Of Plants)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team (sans Lance and Hunk) venture out on an unknown planet to harvest some belladov plants. However, they run into a few...problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmkay so first of all: sorry for the long, unannounced wait! school is quite the bitch. also im sad a lot.  
> but hey here it is!!! and dont worry there WILL be more!! i am trying my darndest i tell u what

The planet that hosted the growth of the belladov was small—Pidge mentally compared it to Pluto. Maybe even smaller. When they had reached its orbit, she couldn’t help but notice this. Oh, also that it was _way too fucking hot_.

“Are we close?” Keith—who was probably thinking the same thing as Pidge—asked as he wiped his brow. The team was told by Coran that the air was perfectly fine, and so, they didn’t need to wear the complete air-tight helmet, just the visor, _thank God_. They probably would have died from drowning in their own sweat if they had to. 

“It’s just about a few more dyntants!” Coran replied from up front, craning his neck to look at Keith.

“Uh, dyntants?” The Red Paladin echoed, somewhat irritated. “Is that a lot?”

Allura waved her hand from her spot next to Coran.

“Oh, not at all, it is merely a bit longer than one murlile!” She chirped.

Keith sighed, deciding against asking how long a murlile was.

“I know its… _hot_ ,” Shiro added, “but we should be there soon.”

Pidge rolled her eyes.

“Hot? Understatement of the year.” She huffed, moving bangs out of her eyes.

The five continued walking down what appeared to be a thin stream of…water? It resembled water. It was surprising that it wasn’t evaporating, though. They kept their small chatter going on for a bit until they all, even Coran and Allura (who were in no way displaying any discomfort earlier), silently agreed upon keeping quiet. More talking meant more hot air, and frankly, there was plenty of that, thank you very much.

It took them around ten minutes to find the exact location of the plants. Coran, Shiro and Keith ripped a few out of the ground, roots and all, before stuffing them in a bag Allura had brought. Pidge carried said bag, surprisingly a tad heavy for something filled with leaves and stems, and after a quick high five all around, the team began making their way back.

That was when things started to get… _messy_. Coran had told them there was a _sliiiiiiight_ chance that the creatures who fed off the plants would notice their ‘kidnapping’, but he assured them they usually slept during the day.

Well, being in a cryo-pod for thousands of years means one misses out on a lot. Like, say, the development of a once calm, peaceful species into a terrifying, savage one.

But hey, at least they still fed on plants and not meat.

Too bad Voltron took said plants.

They were quiet, but Pidge noticed them immediately.

“Guys? Did anyone hear that?” She inquired suddenly, dropping the bag and whipping out her bayard. It formed into her sharp-ended grappling hook, and she held it out firmly with both arms.

Shiro caught on right away.

“Yeah, I heard that too.” He said, getting into a battle stance.

Allura and Coran turned around to face them, a confused look etched on their features—a look that only lasted a second, because they spotted the animals from behind the Paladins.

Keith noticed their expressions and turned around as well, motioning for Pidge and Shiro to do the same. He yanked out his bayard, ready to fight.

“Aw, don’t worry!” Coran said, feared expression having turned into a calm one. “By the looks of their colouring and patterns, these creatures only feed off of plants!”

Pidge took a step back, arms still extended, and shrieked in response.

“Those plants don’t happen to be the ones were stealing from them, right?! The animals that you said _sleep_ during the day?!” She asked aggressively.

Coran thought a moment before his features morphed into fear yet again.

“Yes, perhaps it is these very plants. I do remember these aliens being much more civil, though. And asleep!” He said nervously, backing up, as well.

Allura got into a battle position, too, and the team formed a circle, backs to the inside.

“We’ve been asleep for ten thousand years, Coran! I think our information might be just a _tad_ bit outdated.” She admitted, eyebrows furrowed.

Keith began shielding some kind of goop the creatures were firing at them via their mouths.

“Outdated? Are you sure the information you had was even correct at one point? These things are savage!” He exclaimed. They huddled closer to each other, nothing but shields flying up to prevent them from getting hit. “And of course we leave our only two ranged fighters back at the castle!” Keith went on, not knowing how they’d attack unless they got up close and personal.

One of the creatures took a leap for the bag by Pidge’s feet, but she slashed it in the—well, she wasn’t sure _what_ that was, but it started oozing. Not blood, but it oozed nonetheless. She grimaced, kicking the carcass away from them.

“They want the sack.” She informed, though she was sure they all realised this by now.

“Then give them the sack.” Shiro said, eyes gleaming. “Bait them with the plants, and when they get close enough, hit ‘em with all you’ve got.” He explained, booting the bag of belladov high into the air. It landed not too far from them, but far enough to bait out the other creatures that were too far to see it.

A few came charging at the bag, only to be knocked out by a grappling hook, sliced open by a sword, or punched by a Galra hand. Coran and Allura did what they could from behind, but without weapons, they were more of a lookout duo than anything.

“Shiro, behind you!” Allura called.

Shiro turned around swiftly, punching the creature mid-air. It went flying back, landed harshly on the ground, and lay motionless, most likely dead.

“Thanks, Princess.” The Black Paladin said sincerely, turning his attention back ahead of him. Allura nodded in response. Hey, the lookout duo was important, okay?

This went on for longer than the group had hoped—probably at _least_ another twenty minutes. However, they had finally gotten rid of all the aliens, their bodies littered around them like dust.

Pidge bent down and grabbed the bag, now covered in dirt and sand, and threw it over her shoulder, surprisingly with less difficulty than before. As they were about to walk on, Shiro began speaking.

“Let’s head back before—”

Shiro and his big mouth.

No longer huddled back-to-back, everyone witnessed another one of the aliens in front of them. The only difference, however, was that this one was probably fifty times bigger. And was wearing a—was that a crown?

Coran blinked twice before standing in front of everyone and holding up a finger.

“I believe this one is their leader.” He said carefully, stealing a glance behind him before looking back at the others. “This is the part where we _RUN_!”

And run they did.

It was no use, however. The ‘leader’, as Coran put it, was hot on their trail in an easy three or so steps, with it being all huge and whatnot.

They tried to outrun it for a minute or so before Shiro decided it wasn’t going anywhere. He stopped, almost causing a domino effect behind him, and turned around, breathing heavily. He eyed the large monster, and the alien looked back.

“Are they having a leader stare-off?” Keith whispered to Pidge, who shrugged.

The others turned around as well, everyone facing the large beast. Coran whimpered from behind Allura, hands on her shoulders. He gripped them so hard that Allura was sure he’d dislocate them.

“Listen,” Shiro began, “we don’t want any trouble. We want the opposite, really. Our friend—he’s in real trouble. We need these plants to help him.” He explained, holding up the bag of plants. “We know you eat these, but there’s a ton more all over this planet. It would really help us if we could just take a few.” Shiro finished, hoping for the best.

The monster narrowed its eyes and lowered its head uncomfortably close to Shiro’s. It breathed in the Black Paladin’s face, and Shiro grimaced at the smell of its breath.

“A few?” It questioned in a low, quivering voice. “That enough to feed all children.” It spoke broken English, but English nonetheless, at least.

Shiro put the bag down and kicked in the general direction of the monster, who had by then backed off slightly.

“Check the bag. I promise we didn’t take much. We just need a few for our one friend.” He tried, folding his arms.

The alien picked at the bag before smelling it. He frowned and tossed the bag back at Shiro, hitting him square in the face. He was knocked back slightly but otherwise he stood his ground. The others were slightly taken aback by Shiro getting hit, but stayed calm, knowing that unleashing all Hell was _not_ an option at the moment.

“This okay.” The alien said, standing up to its original height. “Leave now. No more plant take. That all.”

Shiro nodded.

“Of course, we were just on our way. Thank you very much.” He said, picking up the back once more.

 

* * *

 

The walk back took a lot longer than they remembered. Maybe it had gotten hotter?

“Are we almost back? I don’t think it took that long on the way there.” Shiro asked Coran. The Altean stopped in his tracks and took a gander around.

“I’m quite sure we’re on the right track, but you’ve made me doubt myself, Shiro!” Coran exclaimed, though he didn’t seem angry at all.

Allura walked over next to Shiro and put an arm on his shoulder.

“I’m sure we’re close. Right, Coran?”

The older Altean twirled an end of his moustache with his right hand and turned around to face the others.

“Actually, no.” He said, tone serious. “I think we may actually be lost.”

Keith, hearing this, groaned.

“ _How_?” He asked, folding his arms.

Coran brought up a small device and put it out in front of him—it floated on seemingly nothing. A miniature, holographic keyboard popped up and Coran began typing. Everyone gave each other nervous glances—including the Princess—but Coran didn’t take long.

“Ah,” he said simply.

“Ah?” Pidge echoed, going on her tiptoes to try and see the screen.

“We were supposed to go north.” He informed, drawing back the device.

Pidge raised an eyebrow.

“And we went…?”

“Who knows? But it wasn’t north!” Coran exclaimed, grinning.

Everyone sighed.

“Okay, we just need to figure out which way is north, right?” Shiro said, raising his voice to grab everyone’s attention.

Coran nodded.

“Precisely. If I remember correctly, the plants we harvested grow with their leaves facing north! We just need to find more of those, then.” He explained, putting a hand to his brow and dramatically looking around.

“Then find them we shall.” Allura added.

The team began making their way to any flora they saw sprouting out of the ground. Many plants, unsurprisingly to the others, looked like the belladov, so they had to inspect each one carefully.

Coran led the search, claiming he knew _exactly_ what the plant looked like—down to its roots. However, as the mission dragged on, he realised they may have strayed too far away from where the plants typically grew on the planet.

At one point, though, they searched by a river (of _God-knows-what_ ), and Allura pointed out a large tree on the other side. Under the tree was what she believed to be more belladov plants.

“So, we just need to cross the river, right?” Keith asked, growing weary from the heat. He wiped at his brow and huffed, not enjoying being in full-body armour in _at least_ forty-degree weather.

“Well, if we could just see the leaves from over here…” Allura commented, squinting her eyes to try and get a better view.

Shiro thought a second before powering up his jetpack. The others looked at him surprised before their expression weakened. How could they have forgotten?

“Duh.” Keith muttered, literally slapping his forehead. He powered up his jetpack as well and he and Shiro crossed to the other side (which surprisingly took a solid thirty seconds of jet packing). From there, they were easily able to see where the leaves pointed.

Except for one problem.

“Yeah, so, these leaves aren’t all facing the same direction.” Keith said into the comms, annoyed.

“Then…” Pidge began, hanging her head.

“Those aren’t belladov.” Allura finished, sighing. “Come back, Paladins. Thank you anyway.” She called, folding her arms.

Once they had regrouped, they began walking back from where they came.

“We just need to retrace our steps.” Pidge said lightly, trying to remember any landmarks they may have passed on the way. Keith groaned.

“Yeah, except—”

A breeze blew past them, blowing away their sandy footprints in the process.

“That.” Keith finished.

“I don’t mean literally,” Pidge replied, annoyed, “just try and remember if we passed anything significant that would remind us of where we went.” She ordered, blowing bangs out of her eyes.

“How am I supposed to remember a landmark? Everything looks the same!” Keith whined, throwing his hands up.

“Okay, okay, relax.” Shiro intervened from the front. “You both have a point. Pidge, let’s try and find something we’ve seen already. But make sure it really _is_ something familiar—Keith has a point, too. Everything _does_ look bland.” He directed calmly.

“Sounds good to me.” Keith said, observing his surroundings carefully as they walked.

“Same here,” Pidge agreed.

“We’ll do the same.” Allura said from up front, gesturing to herself and Coran.

“Let’s do this. Lance needs us.” Shiro added softly.

And little did they know, but he did need them.

He really did.

 


	4. Priorities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is all fine and dandy--both at the castle, and on the mission.  
> ...  
> Or, y'know, maybe not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew-ee. sorry again for the kinda (ish) long wait, school, school, school.  
> and laziness. but mostly school. u feel me, right? right. ok now read. thx.

The infirmary was pretty quiet. Lance had fallen asleep not too long after he had woken up. Hunk, apparently a little _too_ comfortable in his chair, fell asleep a few moments after Lance, head leaning back and mouth slightly ajar.

Soft beeps emitted from the computer on the other side of the room, creating a steady metronome, almost as if _trying_ to get the two teens to sleep.

They hadn’t heard from the others, which was probably how they let their guard down so easily. In fact, it wasn’t until Hunk heard a small cough that he blinked and lifted his head.

Groggily, he looked over at Lance, but the boy was still fast asleep. He had turned over to his side, back facing Hunk, and seemed to be at peace for the time being.

Hunk smiled. It was good to see Lance asleep peacefully—not because of drugs or pain or anything. He just… _fell asleep_. It was as simple as that.

Stretching, Hunk got up and cracked a few bones. He stole a glance at the beeping machine across the room and waltzed over to it almost too innocently, as if expecting nothing out of the ordinary.

Ha, boy was he wrong.

Turned out that while they were both asleep, two messages had popped up. His breath hitched and he nearly would have screamed if it hadn’t been for the fact that his yelp was caught in his throat.

One message, he could deal with. But two? And he didn’t even know what they said!

He jogged back over to Lance, but the teen was undisturbed. Perhaps… _too_ undisturbed? Hunk leaned over the bed, hands gripping the rail so tight that his dark skin turned white.

“Psst, Lance?” He whispered. Wait, why was he whispering? He was _trying_ to wake up the Blue Paladin, not the opposite! He backed up, putting his hands down, and moved over to the front of the bed, head near Lance’s. “Lance! Wake up, buddy.” He said in a low voice, not wanting to startle the shorter boy awake.

Lance stirred and let out a grunt, clearly not pleased with the idea of waking up. Hunk’s eyebrows furrowed and he placed his hands on Lance’s shoulders, shaking the injured boy lightly.

“Hmm?”

“Lance, wake up.” Hunk said, a bit louder this time.

“Five more minutes,” Lance mumbled under his breath. “ _Por favor_ , Hunk.” He added, exaggerating his Spanish plead.

Hunk rolled his eyes and leaned over to shake Lance again, harder than before.

“You don’t _have_ five more minutes, amigo.” He said, urgency rising in his tone. “You’re apparently hurting and I gotta figure out why.”

Lance rolled over, arms in front of his head. He opened his eyes slowly, looking up at Hunk.

“Mmm, but I-I’m fine,” Lance argued weakly.

Hunk took a hold of the thin cover on the cot and whipped it off, examining the boy underneath. He checked the bandage around Lance’s middle and sure enough, the wound was open and bleeding. The liquid crimson had soaked into the bed, and was still splotching on the bandage. Clearly, it had been open for a while with neither boy noticing.

“Quiznak, Lance!” Hunk exclaimed, running to where the bandages were located. “Why didn’t you tell me it was still bleeding?!” He screamed from the other side of the room.

Hunk was flustered. He was panicking and fumbling over all the medical equipment he came into contact with. He cursed under his breath in his mother tongue, butchering himself for not noticing earlier. How could he have fallen asleep?! He had _one_ job. One! See, this is why he didn’t want to stay behind. This is why he should have gotten Keith or Pidge or Shiro, instead. This is why—

“Hunk, mi valiente,” Lance slurred from the other side of the room. “No te preocupes, estoy bien.”

Hunk, understanding the second half of his friend’s statement, turned around in a flash.

“Estoy bien, eh? Are you sure about that, Lance? Are you _sure_ ‘bout that? _Are you extremely sure about that, Lance_?” Lance gulped. The venom practically spilled out of Hunk’s lips. “Also, man, you’re gonna have to _stop_ slipping into Spanish because, one: I can’t understand like, half of what you’re saying, and two: because it’s worrisome that you’re resorting to your mother tongue!” He shrieked, sprinting back over to the bedside. “A-are you not well enough to translate in your head, man?! Are you forgetting English? Are you becoming a subtractive bilingual, Lance?!”

Lance blinked at him, eyes wide. Why in space was Hunk so over the edge?

“Uh, no,” he cleared his throat after pronouncing the negation in Spanish, “I’m not becoming a—what’s a subtractive bilingual?”

Hunk sighed and sat down on the chair by Lance’s bed. With a huff, he lifted up Lance’s shirt (which was really just a baggy, oversized shirt Hunk had let him wear, outfit complete with Lance’s boxer shorts) and gently traced along the edge of the bandage. His fingers brushed against Lance’s (much too cold) skin, and the Blue Paladin’s breathing stopped a moment.

“Sorry, Lance. I was just worried. You okay, man?”

Lance nodded, watching Hunk’s hands through half-lidded eyes. He was fucking exhausted all of a sudden.

“You, uh, gonna change the bandage?” He questioned, though the answer was obvious.

“Yeah, I have to. Also gotta figure out how the wound opened again when all you were doing was slee—Lance?” Hunk cut himself off when Lance had closed his eyes. “Uh, Lance?” He carefully removed his now-shaking hands from the pilot’s wound, placing them on the boy’s shoulders instead. Hunk felt the blood rush to his face and the sweat drip down his back. “Lance!” He exclaimed, trying to shake him awake. “Lance, Lance! Oh, God, Lance!” He stood up so quickly that the chair fell behind him, but he took no notice. “Oh, God, oh God, oh God, oh God—”

He turned around, looking at the shorter boy’s frame. He was unmoving. Hunk bent forward, tilted his head to the side, and put his ear to Lance’s mouth, listening for his breathing.

…

…

…

Nothing.

Hunk was sure he was about to faint. He was about to pass out. He was going to fall over, hit his head, die, and nobody would be able to save Lance. His childhood friend. His _best_ friend. His fellow Paladin. His roommate at the Garrison. His venting buddy. His hugging buddy. His bubbly, sometimes annoying, but always loud _buddy_.

Hunk gathered himself to the best of his abilities and grabbed his helmet that he had left by the side of the bed. He put it on, ignoring the tiny unease he felt of having only the helmet of his uniform on.

“Guys! Guys, oh God, please hurry back!” He shouted, attention turning back to his unconscious teammate. “Lance is—I think— _God_ he’s not _breathing_!”

 

* * *

 

The belladov mission was going… _okay_ , until the team had gotten lost. However, according to Coran, they seemed to be headed back in the right direction. Apparently, it was only a little bet less than a murlile until they reached the Black Lion.

Nobody, just as before, questioned what the Hell a murlile was. Pidge, however, assumed it was close to a mile—simply because of the letters and rhyme. She thought of a lot of useless things under the influence of the heat of a thousand suns.

The gang had resorted to minimal talking, only doing so when necessary. So it had been quiet when all of a sudden the Yellow Paladin’s urgent voice rang through their comms.

“ _Guys! Guys, oh God, please hurry back!_ ”

Everyone stopped in their tracks and looked at each other nervously. Shiro opened his mouth to ask what was up, but Hunk continued.

“ _Lance is—I think—_ God _he’s not_ breathing _!_ ”

Pidge dropped the bag she was holding, eyes wide and mouth open. Allura’s hand flew to her mouth, gasping as if she had been underwater for a moment too long. Coran put a hand to the Altean woman’s shoulder, squeezing gently. Keith slowly bent down to pick up the bag Pidge had dropped, hands shaking. He looked up at Shiro, who’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration. A bead of sweat dripped down his jawbone, and his hands formed fists at his sides.

“What?” Pidge asked softly, disbelief evident on her face.

“We’re on our way, Hunk. Try everything you can.” Shiro said as calmly as he could muster.

The group broke into a run then, before Shiro hopped up, jetpack ablaze. He picked up Allura from under her arms and zoomed off, Keith following suite with Coran and the bag, and Pidge following behind them.

“ _Try everything I can?! Shiro I—_ ”

“THAT’S AN ORDER, HUNK.” Shiro yelled, earning worried glances from the others behind him.

“Hunk, do you humans have a cardiovascular recovery process?” Allura asked. She had tried to be soft, but her voice came out shaken.

“You mean C.P.R.?” Pidge asked, voice cracking.

“ _I don’t know C.P.R._! _Oh, God, Lance is gonna die and—Oh,_ GOD _, Lance is gonna die!_ ”

Shiro brought his legs forward slightly before kicking off with all his might, activating the jetpack’s nitrous. Keith saw this and copied, shortly followed by Pidge.

“Hunk, we’re almost there. Do everything you can, and I mean _everything_. We’re not losing him!” Shiro ordered.

The gang heard muffled curses before Hunk spoke again.

“ _I—oh, God, he’s so pale. He’s so friggin’ pale. He’s bleeding out. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know._ ”

Shiro narrowed his eyes and huffed. Hunk was having a panic attack. He adjusted his grip on Allura and took a deep breath before speaking.

“Hunk. You need to calm down. You won’t be able to help Lance in your current state.”

Shiro knew they had to act quickly. Lance’s chance of survival was diminishing by the second. Another two minutes and they’d be entering permanent brain damage territory.

“ _I-I know. Sorry._ ”

They all heard the Yellow Paladin take a few quick, deep breaths.

“Hunk. Are you alright?” Shiro asked. He’d confront him about his panic attack later, but right now, they had to save Lance.

The Black Lion came into view just then, nothing but a black, white and red dot in the distance. Coran noticed this and yelled out for Shiro to call to it.

“Shiro!” He exclaimed through the wind of being carried. “Call for your lion!” He ordered, tone serious.

Shiro focused all of his energy into thinking about Black, before letting out a battle cry.

“ _Come on, girl! We need you, NOW_!”

The Black Lion roared to life, particle barrier dissolving into thin air. She growled at the sky, booting up her engine, and dashed off, trying to find Shiro.

The two forces met in an instant, and everyone landed safely before cascading into Shiro’s lion. They took off not a moment too soon, and flew in the general direction of the castle, which thankfully, wasn’t too far out.

“ _A-Are you guys inside Black?_ ” Hunk questioned, sounding like a lost little child.

“We are.” Allura replied. “We will be at the castle in just a few ticks, so please hang on.”

 _“Lance, Lance! Please hurry guys. Please. He’s not breathing. Please hurry._ ”

The others, all gathered in Black’s cockpit, almost wanted to rip off their helmets to avoid listening to Hunk’s panicked tone. It was horrible.

However, Allura was right, and in under twenty seconds, the castle was in view. They soared inside as quickly as Black would let them, and made it to the hangars in record time.

Upon landing, everyone ran out, Shiro leading.

“We’re here, Hunk, we’re here,” Shiro assured. He glanced behind him quickly before looking back in front of him. “Keith has the plants. Lance will be fine. He’ll be okay.”

“ _Okay…_ ”

They made it to the main hallway of the castle, and ran down the corridor.

Pidge couldn’t let go of the fact that Lance was just _not_ breathing. He had a wound to his side, so how did that affect his ability to breathe? Did the wound strike deeper than they may have realised? Was it the loss of blood? Hunk hadn’t told them how much he had bled out. Was the wound infected? Did Lance get hit with some kind of virus that only awoke in a wound? How long was Lance out for, anyway? Would he have brain damage at this point? Was his heart beating, even?

They turned a corner, huffs and puffs filling the air.

Keith didn’t understand how this was happening to Lance. Of all people, it had to happen to Lance. Didn’t he have enough with the explosion? But no. Lance had to be reckless. He had to either mess around or try to be the hero or just be _Lance_ and—God, why was he so stupid? Shiro had warned him. Lance had not listened. And now Lance was probably going to die. The Blue Paladin was truly an idiot, and nobody compared.

They turned another corner, taking bigger steps with each stride.

Allura was in shock, to be honest. She was shocked at her being shocked. She had seen numerous Paladins come and go, but for some reason, she felt extremely disturbed. Did she not want Lance to perish? Did she come to _love_ this new set of Paladins? Something was obviously different between them and their predecessors. She obviously spent too much time in the pod, she guessed. Otherwise, she wouldn’t really feel any kind of remorse. But this was different. Much different.

Pidge tripped on herself, and the others stopped to quickly help her up. They continued running.

Coran wasn’t the best at showing his serious side, but he knew that the Paladins could trust him when need be—but this was too much. He knew the others needed him right now, probably more than they may ever ( _ahem_ , knock on wood). He was determined to save Lance—he knew the boy wanted to go back home, and Coran was going to make damn well sure that he _did_.

The infirmary was just down the hall, so they sprinted the last few meters there.

Shiro’s thoughts raced at a mile a minute. All he could think about was getting to Lance, but he had no idea what to do when they all ran in. Did any of them even _know_ C.P.R.? He knew it, kind of, but he definitely shouldn’t be the first pick. Performing C.P.R. incorrectly could sometimes cause more damage than repair. Shiro definitely did not want to cause damage—the minefield had done enough of that. And what about brain damage? He wondered if Pidge was thinking the same thing, considering she was pretty smart when it came to these types of things. Maybe Pidge could do the C.P.R.? It would be weird, for sure, but someone had to do it. Hell, if nobody knew how, he’d do it. He’d do it to save his teammate. His fellow Paladin. His friend.

Finally, everyone barged into the infirmary. Half panting and half panicking, Shiro ran up to Hunk, who had never left Lance’s side.

Shiro extended an arm out when the others approached him, wanting space. He leaned over the bed and put an ear to Lance’s chest.

He had a heartbeat. A weak one, but one nonetheless.

“He has a pulse.” He said between breaths. He thought quickly, not wanting to resort to C.P.R. unless totally necessary. “Allura, do you have adrenaline?” He questioned, looking at the Princess.

“Erm, I’m not quite sure—”

“We do.” Coran replied, patting Allura’s back. He dashed to the other side of the room where the medicine bookcase was, and quickly took down a plastic box. He carefully reached inside and pulled out a small bottle, filled with what looked like water. Allura raised her eyebrows, not sure what the bottle contained. “We’ll need a fresh syringe,” Coran said urgently, nodding at Keith. “Fetch one over there, would you?” He asked, gesturing to a cabinet by the computer.

Keith nodded and flashed to the cabinet, looking for a syringe. The others gathered around Lance and Hunk, giving Hunk hugs and Lance worried looks.

“Here,” Keith mumbled, handing Coran the needle. The Altean nodded in approval and walked over to Lance’s bed. Everyone moved to the side, including Hunk, allowing room for Coran to work his magic.

He carefully pushed down on the syringe and into the bottle of adrenaline. He pulled the syringe back up, sucking all the liquid into the needle. Then, he placed the bottle on the nightstand by the bed and grabbed the I.V. connected to Lance’s hand. He put the syringe inside of the external tube of the I.V. and pressed down on it, the liquid pouring out and into the I.V.

“This should work almost immediately.” Coran announced, stepping back.

Everyone waited in silence for a sign that Lance was alright. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but after an unnerving amount of time (which was really only under ten seconds), Lance’s breath hitched and he coughed, eyebrows furrowed in discomfort.

To this, everyone cheered. Allura and the Paladins swarmed Coran, congratulating him and thanking him and telling him he’s the best and asking how he did that so efficiently and—

“Aren’t we forgetting someone?” He called, swarmed with hugs.

“Lance!” Hunk exclaimed, pushing out of everyone’s way and dashing to Lance’s side. “Lance, buddy, you up?”

Lance groaned in response, and his head bopped once; he had nodded.

“Oh, thank God.” Shiro said under his breath. He watched as the rest of the team piled around the bed, asking Lance if he was alright, Hunk holding his hand as tight as he could without breaking it, Keith muttering something about being glad that Lance was okay, and everyone just feeling so… _relieved._ The Blue Paladin was surely not well, but for now, they were thankful he was even _alive_.

Shiro smiled at the sight in front of him. It was good to know that they had saved one of their teammates. One of their fellow Paladins.

One of their friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GEEZ that was a fast-paced chapter. maybe too fast. but meh, its not over!!!!! not by a long shot. there is still tons of fluff, angst and whump to go around!! heh.


	5. Causes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team try to figure out what happened to Lance. Later, Shiro pulls Hunk aside to address his earlier panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok omg i am the worst i know its juST THAT SCHOOL,,   
> no joke literally the hardest semester of my life im so glad its over next month  
> anyway i know this is short and wtv but i promise more lance next chapter ok bye

After a few moments of awaking from… _whatever the Hell that was_ TM, Lance had fallen straight back to sleep, claiming he was way too tired to stay up.

“Well, I suppose we can begin treating him, now.” Allura announced as she—and the others—surrounded the computer on the other side of the room. Hunk, however, eyed his friend, peacefully asleep. He raised his hand up but didn’t wait to talk as he voiced his thoughts.

“Don’t you think we should figure out what happened?” He said, voice laced with worry.

Shiro turned around to look at the Blue Paladin. They had switched his bandage, replaced the bedsheets, and Hunk had given him another shirt.

“You’re right, Hunk.” Shiro said. “Adrenaline shouldn’t have helped the way it did, to be honest, so I don’t think he stopped breathing due to blood loss.” Hunk nodded slowly in response, but said nothing. Shiro looked over at Coran. “Coran, can you check the pop up messages Hunk mentioned earlier?”

Coran nodded, sitting down at the computer desk.

“Just a tick!” He declared, scrolling through the history of the past hour until he found it. “Ah, here we are.” Allura bent slightly forward behind him, reading over his shoulder.

The two’s neutral expressions turned to ones of confusion upon reading the first message. After reading the second one, however, a hand flew to Allura’s mouth and she gasped.

“That is…interesting.” She said softly.

“What is it?” Pidge asked from her spot behind Allura. The Princess turned around to address the younger Paladin, and then the others.

“The first message displays evidence of an erratic heartbeat, which is odd considering Shiro’s earlier statement of a weak one.” Her eyes flickered towards the general direction of the Paladin in question before returning back to the Paladins in front of her. “The second message displays evidence of a head injury.”

This time, everyone looked back at Lance. Head injury? Shiro folded his arms and nodded, letting out a puff of air.

“Yes. It seemed that way earlier on. When we found him in his lion, his helmet was just barely on, and he was laying on the floor, unconscious.” He explained.

“Yeah, and he kinda had a barf fest while you guys were gone,” Hunk added, arms also crossed. The others looked at him. “What?” He asked, unfolding his arms.

“Well, that information would have been much more useful had you told us earlier.” Allura replied, though she didn’t sound annoyed. “The head injury could possibly speak for the loss of breath, the fainting and the vomiting, but it is odd that he had such a quick heartbeat only to have such a slow one later on.” She said, a finger to her chin. “Pidge, any ideas?”

The Green Paladin hummed, cupping her chin.

“I’d assume the quick heartbeat was from all of the action—Hunk, you said he started to bleed out right?” Hunk nodded. “And…he threw up.” The Yellow Paladin confirmed this. “And slipping into Spanish?” One last nod.

“What does Spanish have to do with anything?” Keith piped up.

“Well, I’m monolingual, but you guys can vouch for this, right?” She asked, adjusting her glasses. “Haven’t any of you ever accidentally switched to your mother tongue, due to…I don’t know, stress? Fatigue?”

Keith huffed.

“I’m perfectly bilingual. Why would—”

“So, anyone other than Keith. Has this ever happened to any of you?” Pidge repeated, louder this time. Keith frowned but said nothing, and he folded his arms.

“Actually, I got to admit,” Shiro replied, “sometimes, just to avoid swearing around you guys, I say stuff in Japanese. None of you have noticed so far.” He said, shrugging.

Hunk raised his hand, bobbing up and down excitedly.

“Oh! I do the same in Samoan!” He said, almost too proud of himself.

Allura gave it a thought, and smiled.

“I do the same in Altean, if you haven’t noticed.” Coran nodded in agreement.

“As do I!”

Pidge deadpanned, dragging a hand across her face.

“So, do any of you do it… _un_ intentionally?” She asked.

Silence.

“Well, what I was going to say was that, under huge amounts of stress—be it emotional or physical—it can be easy to accidentally slip into your mother tongue. That’s probably what Lance was experiencing, but Hunk just didn’t notice.”

The Yellow Paladin looked like he wanted to punch himself on the face.

“Hey, don’t worry, kiddo.” Shiro said, clapping a hand on Hunk’s shoulder. “You couldn’t have known, and you did everything you could. Besides, he’s fine now.”

Hunk smiled, silently thanking the Black Paladin.

“Well, I wouldn’t say he’s _fine_ —”

“Pidge!” Shiro exclaimed, interrupting whatever she was about to say. Pidge sucked in a breath through her teeth.

“Sorry.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“No, you’re right.” Hunk admitted, sighing. “Can we get to using the plants, now?” He questioned, turning to face Allura.

Allura’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. They could definitely begin treatment, but was Lance better off in a pod? She looked over to her advisor who nodded at her, probably thinking the same thing. She put her hands on her hips and looked up at the others.

“Let us put him in a pod.” She declared, voice strong.

“What?” Keith asked in a monotone. “Then what did we get the plants for!?” He said, voice cracking at the end of his sentence. He gestured—with both arms—to the bag of plants sitting by Lance’s bedside. “We literally almost _died_ for those!” He exclaimed.

“We _literally_ _almost die_ pretty much every day, dude.” Hunk pointed out somberly.

“At least I got a good work out from carrying the bag?” Pidge tried.

“Why the sudden change of heart, Princess?” Shiro asked, ignoring his team’s concerns.

Allura looked over to Coran, hoping he could give a better explanation than she could.

“According to his latest scan, his brain activity is much lower than before.” Coran started, looking at the flashing numbers on the screen in front of him. “So the pod is no longer a worry.” He clarified, looking up at the others. “It will be better for ‘im, and faster!” He added, holding up a finger.

Shiro put a hand to his chin, giving it thought.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s do it now!” Keith decided, walking over to Lance’s bed.

“Hold on, Keith.” Shiro warned, not even turning around to grab Keith’s arm. “If it was as easy as knocking him out, why didn’t we just do that before?” Shiro questioned, almost looking suspicious.

Coran eyed his Princess, almost as if asking for guidance.

“What is it _now_?” Keith asked, exasperated.

“Well, the scans are able to detect the parts of the brain the high activity was coming from.” Coran informed carefully, as though saying something wrong could end in disaster. “Some parts are much more alert than others, even now, while ‘e’s asleep. One of the issues, as I explained earlier, is that with high brain activity, ‘e could potentially wake up and experience pain like nothing before.” To this, everyone nodded. “What’s odd is that, while asleep, there are still certain parts of ‘is brain that are active but shouldn’t be.” Hunk frowned.

“The concussion?” He asked. Coran shook his head.

“More like…” He paused, trying to find the right word as he read through the scan reports. “Anxiousness?” When nobody replied, he went on. “What someone’s brain would look like during a nightmare, I’m assuming. But ‘e shouldn’t wake up this time around, so the pod is perfectly safe.”

Keith turned around upon hearing this, taking a good look at his unconscious teammate. The latter didn’t _seem_ in any distress.

“Out of all times…” Hunk said suddenly, looking at the ground. He shook his head when he decided against finishing his sentence.

Shiro eyed the Yellow Paladin, frowning.

“Forget the pod.” He said sternly, earning everyone’s attention. “Speaking from experience, being shoved into something—conscious or not—while anxious is _not_ fun.”

“But Shiro, it could be so much quicker—”

“I’m sorry, Princess, but this is important to me.” All of a sudden, Shiro was talking about his own feelings. “I don’t want anyone to feel that way. Not if it’s avoidable. Whatever he’s going through, we can’t just expect the pod to heal it.” He said, lowering his voice. He looked over at Hunk, giving him a firm glare. “And if anyone feels anything remotely similar, I’d suggest they talk about it with someone.” While he had said ‘anyone’, he had been staring directly at Hunk. The Samoan got the message loud and clear and nodded slowly.

Allura sighed, looking over at Hunk. She, too, remembered his panic attack from earlier and knew exactly what Shiro was referring to.

“Alright. We shall begin the treatment with the belladov.” She said. “All we must do is extract the juices from the plant and feed it into Lance’s I.V. It should speed up the healing process, but we will still need to monitor him regularly. We can discuss this later, but for now, let us do the prep work.”

 

* * *

 

Allura, Coran, Pidge and Keith stayed in the infirmary, applying the belladov treatment to Lance. Shiro, on the other hand, had left the area and called for Hunk to follow him.

The two walked all the way to the hangars, and Shiro made his way over to the Yellow Lion. He figured that Hunk would feel more at ease with his lion nearby, so he opted to have his one-on-one with him while sitting on the mechanical feline’s paw.

“So, Hunk.”

The two sat side-by-side on Yellow’s paw, Hunk looking at the wall to the left of the room to avoid Shiro’s firm gaze.

“Shiro,” Hunk replied, still averting his leader’s glare.

“So what was that? When Lance stopped breathing? I understand the panic you must have been going through, but you were borderline hysterical. In dire situations, yes you panic, but you’re usually able to remain more… _calm_. Sometimes you even crack a joke. What’s up?”

Hunk sighed heavily, as if a large weight was just handed to him.

“Okay, so, get this,” Hunk started, putting his hands out in front of him, “Lance and I? We’re kinda similar. I mean, we’ve been best buds since primary school, and maybe we became friends _because_ we were similar. Or at least, grew to be similar.” Shiro raised an eyebrow. Hunk sighed again, softer this time, and adjusted his position on Yellow. Shiro looked at him expectantly, urging him to continue. “Lance seems all over-confident,” he grinned slightly at this, “but as you’ve seen, he’s actually like, down here,” he bent over slightly and put an arm to the ground, “when it comes to his self-esteem. He makes jokes to cope, sorta. I’m kinda the same, I guess? I joke around when I’m nervous. Helps divert my attention to something other than the situation at hand. It’s a bad coping mechanism, I know, but…it’s how I function. Lance almost dying? Definitely not one of those situations though.” He sat up straight again, putting his shaking hands onto his lap.

Shiro nodded slowly, crossing his arms and closing his eyes a moment. Hunk sat patiently, not sure if he should continue or wait for Shiro to say something. When Shiro opened his eyes, Hunk was looking straight at him.

“It’s not the greatest coping mechanism, but it certainly isn’t as bad as you may think.” He said finally, un-crossing his arms. “In fact, it’s probably a lot better than some.” The Black Paladin added, absent-mindedly placing a hand over his Galra arm.

Hunk seemed to think about it a moment. He huffed slightly and closed his eyes, leaning back some on Yellow. He opened his eyes and looked back at Shiro, who was offering him a small smile.

“Listen. Just make sure you don’t hold things in, alright? Talk to someone. Don’t bottle stuff up.” The leader put a hand to Hunk’s shoulder, his smile growing. “I know firsthand that holding it all in is _not_ the way to go about it, alright?” Hunk nodded to show his understanding. “We’re a team. We’re all here to support each other, so don’t forget that, okay?” Again, Hunk wordlessly nodded.

Shiro then stood up, spreading his arms out. Hunk grinned and stood up as well, accepting the hug and wrapping his arms around Shiro tightly.

“Thanks, Shiro.” Hunk said, releasing the hug to look Shiro in the eye. The older nodded once.

“Anytime. How about we go see how the others are working on Lance’s wound?” Shiro offered, nodding to the general direction of the infirmary.

“Sure, sounds good.” Hunk replied.

Shiro was glad he could help Hunk—if not a little. He knew that his words probably didn’t just magically get rid of Hunk’s anxiety, but he was well aware of the calm aura Hunk put off after their chat. He had clearly relaxed a bit, which, in the end, was Shiro’s goal: calm the Yellow Paladin and remind him that he had a whole team to vent to if need be. To talk to, to cry to, to lean on.

In fact, Shiro considered giving a one-on-one pep talk to everyone else, too. It just seemed that Hunk would be the first, considering the circumstances. He’d spoken to Pidge alone before, now Hunk—he’d have to get to Lance. Surprisingly, he had yet to talk to Keith one-on-one, too. Though he figured knowing him before Voltron made him a…well, Shiro didn’t want to make Keith a ‘lesser’ priority, but he definitely felt that Lance came next. When the Blue Paladin woke up, he’d make sure to ask the others to leave for a bit to talk with the boy.

The two then made their way out of the hangars and down the halls to the infirmary, and Shiro mentally noted his plan down. For now, though, he wanted to help treat Lance. Later, he would talk to him.

Yeah, later.

 

 


	6. Bad Dreams Are Made of This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two days since the belladov treatment began, but not much progress is being made, save for one thing: Lance is now able to stay conscious longer. Good thing, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, sorry for the long wait. this chapter's longer than usual tho so hopefully that makes up for it!!! hope nyall like it

It had been around two days since the gang had began treating Lance with the belladov. Shiro insisted keeping him out of the pod unless the situation called for it and that there was absolutely nothing else they could do.

The team took turns watching over Lance. He remained on the cot on the far left of the infirmary, nodding on and off every now and then. The plan was for him to always have someone to wake up to, and because there were only six other people in the castle, it meant that shifts were rather… _long_.

Nobody cared, though. In fact, everyone having such alone time with Lance was making them feel…guilty? Was that it?

Ever since Coran had mentioned Lance’s mental state two quintaints ago, the team had, to be honest, said nothing about it. Nobody brought it up even _once_. Sure, they were all _thinking_ about it, but nobody voiced their concerns. It was like the huge, mechanical lion in the room (cause certainly, Alteans don’t have elephants…or, do they?).

Pidge swore she had seen Keith and Shiro murmuring something in the infirmary next to Lance, and she had assumed immediately that it was about _The Thing_.

She had hesitated at first, and with good reason, because she had ended up just walking away without asking them what they were talking about, not bothering.

By the time it had come to Pidge’s turn to watch Lance yet again, she decided to try and figure out what it could have been that Keith and Shiro had been talking about.

She chatted quickly with Hunk, who had been watching Lance before her, and right as he left, Pidge got to work. She sat at the bedside and, having prepared it earlier, whipped out a syringe of adrenaline. She felt almost nervous doing it, but she injected the serum into Lance’s I.V. She hoped this would wake up Lance’s brain a bit without fully waking the boy up, so that his brain activity would go higher. She walked over to the computer on the other side of the room and sat at it, observing the numbers and Altean gibberish scrolling by.

She whipped a flash drive out of her pocket and inserted it into the side of the computer, preparing to download all the information to bring it back to her makeshift lab later on to translate it all.

She sat at the machine for a few moments before she heard a groan coming from Lance. Standing up quickly, she jogged over to his side and frowned when she saw he wasn’t even awake.

“ _What someone’s brain would look like during a nightmare, I’m assuming._ ”

“During a nightmare, huh…” Pidge mumbled to herself, remembering Coran’s words from a few days ago.

Lance’s eyebrows were knitted in distress, and a light coat of sweat was forming on his head. Pidge sighed, wishing there was something she could do to help. She also felt a tad guilty for using the adrenaline on him, but she hoped it was for the better. Besides, all she had done was wake his consciousness slightly—whatever Lance was going through was in his own mind, and Pidge couldn’t really control that.

Then, something Pidge completely did not expect happened.

Lance mumbled something in his sleep, startling the Green Paladin.

“Lance?” She questioned, leaning over the edge of the bed. “Are you awake?” He whined slightly, and his eyebrows furrowed even more. “L-Lance?” Pidge was unsure of what to do.

He began to breathe heavily, and he turned over in his sleep, his back facing Pidge.

They had all agreed on fetching Shiro should anything happen, so that’s what Pidge did. She ran out of the room and down the hallway, hoping to find Shiro at the training deck.

Luckily, she was right. She spotted Keith too, actually.

“Shiro!” She exclaimed, panting slightly from her run.

The Black and Red Paladins stopped their training and turned around, chests heaving from being mid-training session.

“Pidge, you’re supposed to be watching Lance.” Shiro commented carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I think he’s like, having a nightmare or something? He keeps mumbling junk and he looks like he’s in distress or something.” She explained.

Keith and Shiro nodded at each other.

“Let’s go.”

Keith, Shiro and Pidge quickly made their way to the infirmary. Pidge explained, somewhat guiltily, what she had done. She assured the boys that it was in good taste, but they said nothing as the three jogged to their destination.

When they entered the infirmary, however, they were not prepared to see Lance… _awake_?

The Blue Paladin was sitting up, hunched over, and hugging himself. Even from the entrance of the room, Shiro could see he was heaving for air.

“Lance,” he called, rushing to his side, “Lance, are you alright?” He put a hand to his shoulder, and Pidge and Keith stood to his side to get a view of the injured boy, as well.

Lance, unable to form words through his laboured breathing, nodded slowly.

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked.

Lance just shook his head and hugged himself tighter, and that’s when Shiro noticed; the boy had been crying.

As if on cue, Lance let out a sob, chocking on it in between breaths.

“Okay, kiddo, relax.” Shiro ordered, leaning over slightly to look Lance in the face. He rubbed circles on his back, ordering the younger boy to _breathe in and out_ , as if he wasn’t doing that already…

Pidge let the boys to their work and walked over to the computer, and sure enough, there was a pop up message. Though unsure of what it said, she knew she would later on.

“Shiro, Keith,” she called, “there’s an error message on the computer.” She declared, gesturing to the screen.

 

* * *

 

Pidge’s declaration of a pop up message warranted Coran to be summoned. Shiro had sent Keith to go find him, while he continued trying to comfort Lance, who had by then stopped his sobbing and was breathing at a regular rhythm.

Pidge had gone to find Hunk, who _demanded_ (rather aggressively, to everyone’s surprise) that he be alerted to Lance’s wellbeing if anything were to happen. Pidge did _not_ want to see him upset about this, so she had hurried off to call him right away.

When Keith came back with Coran, the advisor went straight for the computer.

“How is he?” Keith asked in a whisper once he had gone over to Shiro, who was by the sink getting Lance some water.

“I’m not sure. He hasn’t said anything, but he’s calmed down a bit.”

Lance, apparently having heard this, sat up straighter from his spot on his bed.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here…” he trailed off, not making eye contact.

“He speaks,” Keith joked louder this time, grinning.

“So he does.” Shiro replied, smiling.

The two walked over to their teammate, Shiro handing him the water and Keith sitting on the chair by the bed.

“You gonna tell us what happened, buddy?” Shiro asked, voice laced with concern.

There was a moment of silence, and Keith was about to repeat their leader’s question, but Lance replied, cutting him off.

“Bad dream,” was all he said.

Coran, on the other side of the room, started talking before the Red or Black Paladins could answer. They turned to look at him expectantly.

“The error message is about an erratic heartbeat.” He announced, voice loud and booming.

Lance sighed, hanging his head. He seemed almost ashamed for what was happening. Shiro seemed to catch on to this because he turned back around to face the younger pilot, putting a hand on his shoulder again. He thought a moment before turning to Keith.

“Keith, head back to the training deck and finish the program. I’d like to speak to Lance.” He said, tone serious. “If you run into Pidge and Hunk, tell them to pass by in an hour or so.” He said, eyebrows furrowed.

Keith nodded wordlessly and walked out, waving a quick goodbye to Lance. The bedridden pilot waved back. Coran walked up to the two, excusing himself and walking out as well, telling Lance to rest well.

Shiro sat on the chair next to the bed and sighed. He’d been doing a lot of one-on-ones as of late.

“Lance—” The boy in question cut him off before he could continue.

“You’re not mad, right?”

Shiro raised his eyebrows, dumbfounded by the question.

“Excuse me?”

Lance fiddled with his fingers, clearly not getting why Shiro had asked what he had asked.

“Uh—”

“No, Lance,” Shiro said, almost laughing, “I’m not mad. Why would I be mad, kiddo?”

Lance shrugged, eyes focused on his hands.

“Listen, Lance.” Shiro began, “Coran told you why you couldn’t go in a pod, right?” To this, Lance nodded. “Your brain activity was too high. Well, a few days ago, Coran told us your brain activity was similar to that of a person who…possibly has anxiety. As if, in your unconscious state, you’re constantly either having nightmares or are in a state of anxiousness.” Lance shuffled in his position, looking more nervous by the second. “I spoke to Hunk the other day, too, and he told me you’re not as over-confident as you put yourself out to be.” Lance smirked slightly at this, almost laughing to himself. “And now, whatever dream you had, was definitely not just a ‘bad dream’, because if I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you were having an asthma attack or something.” Shiro finished, trying to lighten the mood a bit with his last phrase. “Mind telling me what’s up?”

“I’m, uh…” _Please don’t make me talk, please don’t make me talk, please don’t make me talk—_

“You’re…”

“Please don’t get mad,” Lance begged.

Shiro’s features dropped some. Why was Lance so concerned about him being upset?

“I won’t get mad, kiddo. Promise.”

Lance sighed, finally deciding to make eye contact with his leader.

“I, uh, to be honest…I feel, um. I’m really, I guess, stressed? Right now? I, uh, feel really homesick a lot. And like, I don’t mention it much because I’m assuming everyone else does too? Not only that but I’m kind of feeling like I’m not, uh, very…um. Useful.” Shiro cut him off.

“Whoa, Lance. Okay. Let’s tackle this one thing at a time. Homesick, right?” Lance nodded. “Yeah, of course we all feel homesick, but if it’s bothering you that much, then feel free to talk about it.” He said. He was using a serious tone but he hoped he wasn’t coming off as too aggressive. “In fact, it might be a _good_ thing that you’re not the only one feeling like this—we can _relate_ to each other. Support each other, you know?” Lance seemed to think it over.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So the next time you miss Earth, talk about it, okay? Don’t bottle stuff up.” Shiro said, trying not to laugh at the second half of his statement. He felt like a record player, having said the exact same thing to Hunk just a few days prior.

“Okay. Sounds good.” Lance replied, trying to sound more confident.

“What about that other thing? About feeling useless?” Shiro asked, folding his arms and looking at Lance expectantly.

Lance huffed, as if talking about it was going to be some kind of work out (he totally believed it would be, though). His eyes went back to his lap, where he was playing with his hands.

“You’re our leader. We listen to you and you always know what to do and you can always be counted on and stuff. Pidge is our hacker. She can basically make technology her bi—”

“Language.”

“Her slave. Hunk is just as smart, and he can fix things no problem, and he can even cook! Whenever I’m upset or homesick, I can count on him to make something great out of all the weird space food, and it’ll taste like something from home. Keith is brave. He doesn’t always have the best ideas, but he can argue for them, and he just always seems to have instincts about something. He’s always so _sure_ about stuff. Oh, he’s a great pilot, too.” Lance paused to take in a deep breath. “Coran is a great advisor. He’s able to come up with plans, can translate English and Altean, and he’s a really great guy to talk to if you’re bored or, uh, well, homesick. Allura’s able to control an entire _ship_ on her own, and orders us around like she’s been doing it for years. She’d have made a great Altean leader.” Lance let out his breath, long and shaky. “Then there’s me.”

“Lance…”

“What do I do?” He looked up at Shiro, and the older man nearly fell back in shock. The boy looked like he was about ready to burst out crying, but was obviously trying to hold it in. Voice shaking, Lance went on. “I just make stupid jokes and ask stupid questions and cause stupid accidents. I can’t form my bayard in Voltron—”

“Neither can I, or Pidge.”

“I just…what am I good for?”

Oh, God. Shiro wanted to just stop everything and give the kid the biggest hug of his life. He had no idea Lance felt like this, felt so…lost. So broken. Had he known, he definitely would have said something sooner. The Cuban was clearly good at masking his features, or, at least, was good at putting aside his emotions until secluded so that nobody could question him.

However, as much as it pained him, he could not relate. Shiro had problems, for sure, but they were different from Lance’s. Shiro suddenly felt some of his own thoughts rising, and felt himself wanting to talk about his obvious presence of PTSD, or talk about how he sometimes couldn’t sleep at night either due to insomnia or simply waking up constantly in a sheen of sweat, nightmares eating away at his sanity.

“You’re good for so many things, Lance.” Shiro replied. He was in disbelief. Lance was always appearing so over-confident, so full of himself—how? “You’re always so positive. You make us laugh in the face of evil. Your personality in general is enough to cheer any of us up. And don’t get me started on your fighting skills, kiddo. Your piloting is actually really good. It can obviously be improved, but I have definitely seen worse. Your aim is phenomenal, to be honest—you’re our sharpshooter, Lance!”

Lance mulled it over, looking back again to his hands. For some reason, he had a hard time believing a single word Shiro said. The only thing he believed to be true was that his piloting could be improved, and he took it in a _bad_ way. Of course Shiro had seen worse—there were people who _weren’t_ as experienced as Lance was who had flown before and had probably done, well, not so good.

Cheering everyone up? That was a dumb idea. Lance almost wanted to scoff. He’d been shushed, he’d been interrupted, he’d has his name shouted at him angrily—all to cut him off or stop him from finishing a stupid joke or from flirting with some alien.

Although…he really appreciated Shiro taking the time to talk to him. It felt nice to have someone other thank Hunk talk to him alone. It reassured him that, despite not being able to believe what Shiro had said fully, he could still believe that he was valued enough in order to deserve someone talking to him one-on-one.

Which…honestly just made him feel like crap, somehow. He felt _bad_ that Shiro had taken the time to do this, yet Lance still didn’t believe him. He felt guilty for wasting Shiro’s time, yet grateful that he had done so. He appreciated the kind words, but felt horrible for not being able to believe him.

He was conflicted.

“Thanks, Shiro.” He said, attempting to smile. “I really do appreciate it.”

Shiro’s features dropped; he was expecting a better reaction, to be honest.

“Something still bugging you?” He pressed, hoping to help as much as he could.

Lance shook his head.

“Sorry, I guess I’m just…tired. Is it okay if I, uh…?”

Shiro understood and nodded once, standing up.

“Don’t worry about it, kiddo. We’re all here if you need anything. Do you want Pidge to come back? It’s still her shift to watch you.”

Lance smiled. Shiro was in obvious Dad ModeTM.

“No, it’s okay. I just wanna think about stuff.” Lance replied.

Shiro continued walking out, but stopped at the doorway before leaving.

“You sure you’ll be okay, Lance?” He asked seriously.

“I’ll manage,” the Blue Paladin replied, smirking. “Really, though. Thanks a lot Shiro.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

With that, Shiro walked out, leaving Lance alone to his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

He was back at the Garrison, in a flight simulator. For some reason, though, he was alone. Hunk and Pidge were nowhere to be seen. When did—was he in another rescue mission emulator? He kinda needed a mechanic and a communications officer for that one. Oh well.

Suddenly, the control panel light up with warning mumbo jumbo, and he tried doing what they had learned in theory classes.

_Stay calm, report the issue to the higher ups._

“Attention Lunar Vessel: T-This is Garrison— _Galaxy_ Garrison, uh, rescue craft, um, One Vector Six…Three Tango, coming in for landing and extraction. Uh, there seems to be a problem in the, um, the wire casing in the rear cargo containment unit?”

Pidge was the spec comm of their team. She would have known how to say that sentence flawlessly. She would have remembered their craft number. She would have probably also mentioned the problem’s error number and even if not, she would have definitely described it a hell of a lot better than he just did.

He received no response. Odd.

Suddenly, another warning alarm. Before he knew it, his dashboard was filled with lights and beeping and warnings.

Hunk would know how to fix them. Sure, Lance was the one to delegate his tasks accordingly, but he wasn’t the one to actually _do_ them. If something needed fixing, then the pilot was supposed to address the issue to the team engineer.

But, there was no engineer. There was no communications officer. There was just him, the mediocre pilot. His job was to lead the team, tell them what to do, solve their inquiries—but how was he supposed to do that when there was nobody to do it to?

What was he if not a petty pilot? Who was he without a team to back him up? Was it normal to always _need_ people in order to function? Was it normal that he always needed a team to succeed? Was it normal to never be able to do anything by one’s self?

He was closing in fast. The ship was going down and he was going to crash and he was going to fail the simulator.

Again.

He still couldn’t believe how he was chosen to replace Keith. _Him_? Were there no better candidates? He wasn’t a good enough pilot. He wasn’t meant to be fighter class. He should have just refused the offer and remained a cargo pilot. He couldn’t even pass the simulator.

He didn’t have enough time to wallow in self pity because the next thing he knew, he crashed.

Weird, it felt so… _real_. The crashes usually just made the seats vibrate or something, but this crash felt…so real. He felt his body lurch forward, he felt his head slam back against his seat, he saw stars in the corners of his eyes, he felt his breakfast returning for an unwanted visit, he felt… _failure_.

Yeah. This is what failure felt like—literally.

But he wasn’t in the simulator ship anymore. Now he was in his dorm. It was late. Hunk wasn’t in their room for some reason.

He climbed down from the top bunk and saw that the bottom bunk wasn’t even made. There were no sheets, blankets, or pillows. There was no trace of his friend at all. He couldn’t hear Hunk’s stupid clock ticking, or see his fluffed up pillow mess, or smell his snacks he always seemed to sneak in.

There was no sign of him at all.

He left the room and walked down the hallway towards Pidge’s dormroom. The hallways were eerily quiet—it was obviously past curfew, but there were always two or three students either going to grab a snack, or use the computer lab, or stargazing by the windows. But there was nobody.

He made it to Pidge’s door and opened it slowly, peering inside.

“Pidge?”

Nothing.

He walked back towards his own room, tugging at the collar on his uniform. It suddenly felt too restricting. He unzipped it a bit, opening the collar wider. There. That felt better.

“Shouldn’t you be in your quarters, cadet?”

 _What the Hell—_ Was that Mr. Iverson?

“Yes, sir. Won’t happen again, sir.” Lance said quickly, bringing his arm up to give a quick salute.

“Remember your place, cadet.” Iverson said, voice thick with venom. Lance shuddered. “I wouldn’t be pulling stunts like sneaking out of your dorm room. _Especially_ when you’re on conditional standing.”

Lance visibly recoiled.

“Conditional standing? What for, sir?”

Iverson laughed in a way that sent a chill down Lance’s spine.

“Too bad this isn’t a school for comedians. That was a funny joke, son.”

_Gross. He just called me ‘son’._

“I’m not understanding what’s so funny, sir.”

Iverson took a step forward and leaned closer to Lance’s personal space. The younger boy felt his instructor’s breath on his face.

“Maybe try to not cost us two thousand dollars in repairs. Then we can laugh.”

Lance paled.

“T-two thousand dollars?”

“I suppose it was my fault. Sending you out on a rescue mission with no backup.”

That crash…it felt so real…because it _was_.

“I-I thought that was a simulator!” Lance defended, stepping back.

“Regardless, you would have failed it, right cadet?”

“He has a point.”

Was that—

“Keith?”

“It’s true, you know.”

Pidge?

“Yeah. You costed them big time, dude. You’re gonna have to pay that out of your own pocket, remember?”

Suddenly, the halls were lit. Iverson was nowhere to be seen, but in his place were Keith, Pidge and Hunk in their Garrison uniforms.

“I-I don’t understand,” Lance stammered, “I thought it was a simulator!”

“Who cares?” Pidge commented, “You would have messed it up either way.”

“The only reason you’re a fighter pilot now is because _I_ dropped out. Remember, Lance?”

What in the world was happening?

“You shouldn’t even _be_ fighter class! They made a mistake replacing Keith with _you_."

“You should have just stayed cargo class.”

“You mess up the simulators too much.”

“How have you even gotten this far in your studies, anyway?”

_Stop._

“Your piloting skills are that of a five year old’s, dude.”

“My _grandma_ can pilot better than you, and she’s dead.”

_Stop! Stop!_

“You’re lucky you weren’t kicked out right away.”

“I don’t even know _why_ you’re on conditional standing. You should be out completely.”

_STOP!_

“How can you even live with yourself?”

“I’d be embarrassed to even show up to school if I owed them two grand…”

“You’re just lucky. I wish I was that lucky…no need for talent or skill, just pure luck.”

A breath.

“ _STOP!”_

More insults.

“You can’t even take criticism! Look at you!”

A tear.

“ _STOP IT!”_

Another hit.

“What are you gonna do, cry?!”

A sob.

“Please…”

A snicker.

“You’re so pathetic, Lance.”

Knees to the ground.

“Please, stop…”

A spit.

“Worthless. Stay on the ground, where you belong.”

Sudden anger.

“Stop it… _STOP IT_!”

And…he was awake?

Lance woke and sat up with a start, breathing heavily. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his stomach lurched violently. The room spun, his head filled with fog. He sniffed, bringing attention to the fact that he had been crying.

“Lance! Are you okay?”

It was Allura.

“P-Princess?” He mumbled.

“Do you want me to get the others?” Allura asked, face drawn with concern. Without hesitation, Lance nodded eagerly.“Alright. Please lay back down,” she urged, standing up and pushing down on Lance’s chest.

Lance obeyed, laying back down. Allura then left the room in a haste, promising to be back soon. The boy closed his eyes and draped an arm over them, letting out a shaky sigh. Wow. At least it had just been a dream. He couldn’t believe how realistic it was. If he wasn’t in the mood to literally jump off a bridge, he would have probably been amazed at how realistic his brain could be. He wished he could do the exact same thing with cool action movie-type dreams, but he doubted that would ever happen.

Sigh.

Talk about bad dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao oh god im so sorry for this,, but i warned yall


	7. He Needs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's high brain activity finally receives a diagnosis, and surprisingly (or not so surprisingly), Hunk is in charge of helping the Blue Paladin through it. Later, Shiro plans on talking to Lance about his nightmares, but things...don't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy im??? wow??????? i just updated 2 days ago and here we are boiz. here we are. another one. and another one. i cannot beli ev  
> ((pls excuse the title, holy shit i am bad at giving things titles))

Lance turned onto his side, curling slightly into himself. Allura had gone to get the others a moment ago, and she’d probably be back soon, but Lance somewhat found peace in being alone while awake for once. The last time he had that, Shiro had just spoken to him and left him, offering to call Pidge back, as it was her shift to watch over the Cuban Paladin. He couldn’t remember how long he had been up; only that he had fallen asleep…unfortunately.

So, while he wished dearly for company, he still couldn’t help but let his inner relief pour out of him. He was safe. He was in a bed, covered in blankets, wearing Hunk’s t-shirt (he’d probably have to ask for a new one after drowning it in sweat), and he was _safe_. He wasn’t at the Garrison, he didn’t crash a real pod, he didn’t owe his school two grand.

Nobody had said those nasty things to him. His team loved him, valued him, depended on him. Right? It was his stupid, subconscious worries that surfaced when he thought he had control over them

He sighed, closing his eyes. He thought had forgotten about these feelings, but for some reason, getting hurt and having a lot of time to himself made him remember them. He kind of wished he had been put in a pod—at least time would have gone by quicker for him. But no, he had to have _stupid_ high brain activity from his _stupid_ self-doubts and _stupid_ insecurities.

He let out a small laugh; it was like a cycle. Have insecurities --> bury them --> be alone --> remember them --> be alone _because_ you remember them -- > rinse and repeat. He couldn’t go into the pod because of his dumb brain, and his brain was being dumb because he wasn’t in the pod.

“You make sense,” he muttered to himself, opening his eyes.

Suddenly, Allura walked in slowly, followed by Shiro, Keith, Hunk, Pidge and Coran. The latter two went to the computer to the other side of the room to see what was up. Allura joined them quickly after, wanting to know, as well. Shiro, Keith and Hunk walked over to Lance. The boy in question rolled to his other side to face them. His eyes darted upwards, looking at them, but he didn’t move.

“Hey, kiddo. What’s up?” Shiro asked, smiling.

Lance shrugged, looking down at the floor. The tiles were suddenly _oh so interesting_!

“Lance, tell us what happened.” Keith said, perhaps too aggressively. The taller boy shrunk into himself slightly, almost as if he feared that Keith was mad at him.

Shiro put a hand on Keith’s shoulder, pushing him back slightly. He leaned over to Keith’s ear, whispering something nobody heard. Hunk, ignoring this and happy with his new front-row seat of his best friend, smiled.

“Hey, buddy!” He said excitedly, grabbing The ChairTM (it’ll be worth millions one day…) and dragging it towards him to sit on it. When Lance didn’t return his enthusiasm, Hunk frowned. “Bad dream?” He questioned, eyebrows knitted with worry.

Lance nodded, but said nothing. Just then, Shiro and Keith turned around.

“Sorry, Lance. I uh, didn’t mean to be so rough.” Keith said, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“It’s fine,” Lance replied in a small voice, “don’t be sorry.”

Coran walked over to them suddenly, interrupting the small chit-chat. Pidge stood behind him, expression unreadable. Allura stood next to him, expression worried.

“My boy!” Coran exclaimed, reaching down for a hug. This caught Lance by surprise, but the kid couldn’t help but smile. He sat up to properly return the hug.

“Hey, Coran.” He said, voice a bit louder this time.

Keith frowned and folded his arms, averting his gaze to the wall. The paint was suddenly _oh so interesting_!

“So, did’ja wanna know what’s going on in that primitive noggin of yours?” The advisor asked, poking at Lance’s head.

“Uh, sure?” The Blue Paladin tried, unsure of how to respond.

“Right! Well, firstly, your brain’s as active as a wibblemot on a Tuesday!” He declared, holding up a finger dramatically. Everyone looked at him, confused (save for Allura, who looked like she wanted to facepalm), not knowing what the Hell a wibblemot was, and why it was apparently so ‘active’ on a Tuesday. “Secondly, your heart rate, Paladin, _your heart rate_! Quicker than a kodbit on a Thursday!”

“Coran, if you please.” Allura interrupted, aggravated.

“My apologies, Princess. Anywho, Lance, it seems as though you may have what you humans call _worries_!” Pidge rolled her eyes and went up on her tippy toes, and Coran leaned down some. Pidge mumbled something into his ear before standing up straight again, facing the others. “Ansi—? Why do you call it such an unnecessary word?”

“ _Coran!_ ” Allura raged, her hands balling into fists.

“Right. Lance, you have, erm, _anxiety_ , it would seem.”

The room went quiet for a bit. Keith, though he still didn’t look at anyone, was clearly shocked. Shiro, who had suspected such a thing, simply nodded once. Hunk deadpanned.

“Wow. I am shocked.” He said, voice monotone. “I would have never guessed!” He added, throwing his hands up. He nudged Lance with his elbow, smirking some. “Heh, told ya so.” Lance looked at him, face void of expression.

“You are the epitome of friendship, Hunk.” Lance muttered, crossing his arms. Then, addressing Coran, he spoke louder. “So, um, should I like, do something?” He asked, nervous.

“Actually, I thought I’d leave that up to Hunk.” Shiro responded, looking over at the Yellow Paladin.

“Wha-what? Why me?” Hunk questioned, gesturing to himself.

“I feel like you two would be able to…work things out.” The leader explained. “We’re in space, and there isn’t exactly an intergalactic counsellor’s office or pharmacy.” He added, smirking.

“We were hoping that you could help each other, honestly.” Pidge admitted.

Suddenly, a light went off in Hunk’s mind.

“Wait, do you guys, like, talk about this?” Hunk asked, frowning.

“On a daily,” Keith replied, “it’s actually pretty irrita—” Pidge elbowed him then, making him stop rethink his sentence. “Pretty nice. It’s nice.” He said in an annoyed tone.

“Since _when?_ ” Hunk asked, spreading his arms out.

“Since after the Balmera crystal,” Shiro said. “We noticed something off. We were worried, mostly. We noticed something off with Lance too, but mostly, he was just never around. It wasn’t until yesterday that I realised that it could be beneficial for you two to talk it out.” He informed, gesturing to the two in question.

“Well, uh, he already knows?” Hunk added, confused. “Lance has known about my anxiety since, like, forever.” Shiro laughed at this.

“So? Doesn’t really seem like you talk about it.” He bounced back.

“You are absolutely right, Shiro.” Lance added, smiling.

“Whoa, okay, when did this become about me? Aren’t we focused on this guy right now?” Hunk asked, pointing to Lance with both fingers. All the attention was making him nervous. To this, Lance’s smile faded, and his form sank. He looked down at the bed, fiddling with the sheets. “Oh, sorry dude, I didn’t think—uh, we don’t have to talk about anything.”

The room was silent for a moment, and the tension could probably be cut with Keith’s bayard. Allura sighed, bringing her hands to her hips.

“For now, I suggest we let him rest. He had a reckless sleep.” She suggested, smiling at Lance. “We can discuss the details at a later time.”

“Sounds good by me,” Coran added, “but if you need anything, you know who to call!” He assured, walking out and waving. “Got a few things to patch up on the maps, so I’ll be at the control deck if you need me!” He exclaimed on his way out. Allura followed behind, calling a quick “feel better soon” over her shoulder.

“Well, it’s my shift now, so you’re all free to go rest up or train.” Shiro announced, facing the others. He received three affirmative nods, and the others walked out after giving Lance hugs and telling him to get some rest.

Now alone, Shiro took ownership of the chair (again with that damn chair) and sat by Lance’s side.

“So, this one was pretty bad, huh?” Shiro asked, eyebrows furrowed. Lance nodded slowly, not looking up. “Well, if you want to talk about it—”

Suddenly, the Castle of Lions started blaring its alarm systems.

“Shiro, I—” Lance tried to assure Shiro that he was fine, but the Black Paladin cut him off.

“Stay put. Don’t move.” Shiro said, standing up.

“But Shiro—”

“That’s an order, Lance.” Shiro called, dashing out of the room.

Well, shit.

* * *

 

“Princess, what’s going on?!” Shiro asked in between breaths once he had made it to the control area. Pidge, Keith and Hunk were there too, everyone in uniform and ready for a fight.

“The castle’s detected a Galra ship not too far from here. It appears as though they’ve targeted us!” She exclaimed, standing by the piloting controls.

“ _A_ Galra ship?” Keith asked, dubious. “Are you sure it’s not an entire _fleet_?” He asked, stealing a glance at the large window on the ship’s side.

“Alright, everyone to your lions. Same drill as always.” Shiro said.

“Wait, what about Lace?” Keith asked. “Without him, we can’t form Voltron!” He exclaimed.

Shiro gave it some thought. Lance was probably physically alright to fight, despite the risk of re-opening his wound. However, with Lance’s current mental blocks, Voltron would probably be too difficult to form, anyway. They’d each be in their own lions, fighting one by one, and it wouldn’t make much of a difference, in all honesty. Besides, if Lance was not mentally prepared for battle, he could just end up getting hurt (again) or even worse…

“It’s too risky. In his current state, there’s too many things that could go wrong.” Shiro finally said, making his decision. “To your lions!” He repeated.

“On it!”

“Alright!”

“Copy that!”

* * *

 

From inside the infirmary, Lance could still hear the alarms blaring. Unfortunately for him, however, he wasn’t wearing his helmet, and therefore wasn’t able to contact his team.

He couldn’t just sit there and do nothing! He lifted his shirt up to take a peek at the bandage wrapped around his midsection. He didn’t spot any blood—maybe the belladov was working and he was healing. Well, that made his mind up. He ripped the I.V. out of his hand and slid off the bed, immediately swaying. He grabbed onto the nearby nightstand, waiting for his sudden vertigo to pass.

_This is what I get for being bedridden for three days._

Sucking in a breath, Lance let go of the nightstand and took a few steps forward. Satisfied with himself, he made a run for the hangars.

He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, but unfortunately, laying flat on a bed for three days doesn’t exactly do wonders for your muscles. When he was about to turn a corner, his left leg gave out and he tumbled, tripping on himself. Frustrated, he pushed himself up, only to slip and fall again. He breathed hard, trying to blink away the stars dancing in the corner of his vision. He huffed, trying to stand up once more, slower and steadier this time. Finally succeeding, he walked a few steps, panting, before running again.

He wanted to prove to himself that he _could_ be useful on his own. That he _didn’t_ need to always depend on people. That Shiro _didn’t_ need to talk to him after every nightmare, just to assure him that they weren’t real. They weren’t. They never had been. They never will be. That was the only thought that kept Lance going as he continued making his way to his lion.

His teammates were not like in the dream. They didn’t call him pathetic, they didn’t tell him that he belonged on the ground, they didn’t make fun of him for crying or not being able to handle criticism.

So…what _did_ they do? They never really did the opposite. It’s not like they ran up to Lance after every mission and said, “hey, nice shot, Lance!” It’s not like they said, “hey, good teamwork out there, Lance!” It’s not like they ever said, “wow, good diversion, Lance!” No. They didn’t really do that either.

Lance slowed down, bending over and putting his hands on his knees to feed himself oxygen. Tears of frustration pooled in his eyes, making his vision go blurry.

_What are you gonna do, cry?!_

Was he seriously this weak after just three days of bedrest?

 _You’re so pathetic, Lance_.

He chocked out a sob, sending his body tipping forward, and he fell to the ground once more.

_Worthless. Stay on the ground, where you belong._

It was happening. His dream—no, his nightmare—was becoming real. Too real for his comfort.

His breathing became more laboured, which definitely did not help those stars in his vision. He was guessing—no, he was certain: wow. His first fledged panic attack. And nobody was there to—

 _No_. He didn’t _need help._ He could get up, walk to his lion, and operate all just fine, thank you very much.

Or, so he thought.

On one final attempt to get up, he must have ripped open his wound (again, good going, idiot), because searing pain shot through his side as he tried to stand. Perfect. Peachy. There he was, sprawled on the floor, bleeding, crying, sweating, probably some other way to release fluids, and overall feeling like _garbage_.

Maybe he needed help. Maybe ne needed to face the facts; come clean. Regardless, there wasn’t much he could do now. His vision was quickly deteriorating, and he could hardly stand. He was probably about to pass out, and his team would find him there, all disgusting and useless. He thought he could do it. He thought he didn’t need help.

Oh, how he was wrong.

* * *

 

“Great work, Paladins.” Allura greeted once the four had walked through the door to the control deck.

“Thanks, Princess.” Shiro replied. “It was tough, but we managed, right guys?”

Several nods and “oh, yeah”s were shared in the room, filling the place with positivity. Allura told them all to go get some rest, and that though it was supposed to be Shiro’s turn to watch Lance, Coran would do it instead. Shiro obliged, although reluctantly, but agreed that the sudden Galra attack had taken a toll on everyone.

Allura created a wormhole, getting them as far away from the Galra fleet (or, the remains of it) as she could. However, this took a lot of energy, and as the Paladins had just fought, Coran was the perfect candidate to take over the Lance-sitting role.

With everyone in their rooms, Coran walked over to the infirmary, humming along the way. He began thinking of the things he’d talk to Lance about if he was awake. First, he’d tell him how they defeated the Galra fleet! It was truly a spectacle. But, he’d also tell him that it would have been even better if Lance had been there. But! He’d also tell him that it wasn’t his fault that he _couldn’t_ be there. But! He’d also mention how he _wished_ he was there.

Maybe then he’d talk to Lance about some of the stuff going on in his mind, if he so let him. Coran felt that Lance trusted him—he had opened up to him about his homesickness, after all. Coran felt proud, almost feeling like a parental figure—heck, he could probably be their space uncle if need be.

Then, if Lance was still up to talking, Coran would tell him about the time he had to get one his gilbinks removed. Ah, what a painful surgery! It was a good thing Alteans really only needed one of those. It was weird that the Altean body produced double of something it didn’t need, though. At least it wasn’t as bad as the human appendiks! Ah, yes, Pidge had mentioned the appendiks. Coran had been completely baffled as to why the human body decided to produce inutile organs.

He turned a corner and walked into the infirmary, thoughts still wandering.

_And then, I can tell him about—_

“Lance?”

Coran stopped in his tracks. Where was Lance? The bed was vacant! Maybe he went to the washroom. The advisor walked over to the lavatory inside the infirmary and poked his head in, but nothing. Where in space could the Paladin have gone?

He walked out of the room—admittedly, jogging slightly—and made his way down the hall. Maybe Lance took a walk?

“Lance!” He called out, hoping for a reply. Unfortunately, he received none.

He kept walked for a moment, before deciding to turn a corner and go towards the hangars. Maybe Lance wanted to go see Blue? Maybe—Oh. Oh, no. He couldn’t have—

“Lance!” Coran called, nervous this time. His light jog turned into a full-blown run, and he went towards the hangars as quickly as his feet could carry him.

And there, in the middle of his tacks, just another minute away from the hangars, was Lance. The boy was on the ground, unmoving. His lips were slightly parted, but he was breathing heavily. His shirt was half-ridden up his torso, and Coran was able to see blood poking its way out of the bandage. His cheeks were flushed and features pale. Coran’s eyes widened at the sight.

Right next to the unconscious boy were the mice, poking at his cheeks and toes. They looked worried, but their concern wasn’t enough to prod Lance awake.

Coran bent down, hovering over one of the bigger mice.

“Go fetch Shiro for me, yeah?” He asked, hoping the mouse would understand. Unfortunately, it just blinked at him, probably not understanding a word he just said. Coran sighed, standing up. Time to be a mime!

Coran began acting out what he wanted the mouse to do. He stuck his arms out, spun around, put a finger to his nose (if Shiro were there, he’d probably kill him), tried to imitate his voice, but nothing seemed to be working. Through his grunts and exclamations, he didn’t hear Shiro walk up behind him.

“Uh, Coran?”

The Altean immediately turned around, face bright red. The mice scurried off, probably frightened by the sudden movement.

“Ah, Shiro! I was just looking for you!” The Black Paladin raised an eyebrow. Coran’s features faltered, and he stepped out of the way for Shiro to get a full picture of Lance. Shiro’s eyes went wide, and he darted for the boy in a second.

“What happened?” He asked in a panic. Coran shook his head.

“Not a clue. I found ‘im like this. Quick, we need to bring him back to the infirmary.” Coran advised, waving an arm. Shiro nodded and bent down. He scooped the boy up in his arms, and followed right behind Coran and to the infirmary.

“Hang tight, kiddo. You’ll be okay.”

While Shiro had tried to sound assuring, he wasn’t even sure if he believed _himself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im mean to my poor boy *sips tea*


	8. The Talk (No, Not the "Birds and the Bees" Talk!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro finally gets the (second) much-needed pep talk with Lance out of the way, and Lance can't help but react pretty emotionally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is trash but so am i  
> ANYWAY i am so so so so rr y for the long fucking wait i have not had as much insp and scool as been a Fuck  
> so anyways this is totally not an excuse just to see lance being emotionally unstable for a bit,, no,, what are u talking abt.,,

Lance was sure he had died in a video game and respawned at a checkpoint, because, _damn_ , this was déjà vu. He felt a thin blanket over him, heard the slow beeping of the computer in the infirmary, smelled the sweat that took over his body, tasted the taste of copper in the back of his throat, and saw, behind closed lids, bright lights.

He squinted, the illumination bothering him despite not having his eyes open. Involuntarily, he let out a grunt, instantly regretting it once he heard someone respond to it.

“You awake?”

God, _damn it all_ , it was Keith’s shift.

“Yeah,” Lance replied, “still really tired, though,” he slurred, opening his eyes to look at the Red Paladin. He was sitting not too far from Lance, on that probably-worn-by-now chair. His arms were crossed, and there was a book on the nightstand beside him.

“Go back to sleep, then.” Keith said simply.

“I’d, uh, rather not.” Lance admitted, shivering slightly at the memory of the last dream he had had.

“Speaking of which,” Keith started, standing up and stretching, “Shiro wanted me to get him when you woke up. He wants to talk to you.”

 _Oh, great_.

“Maybe that can wait?” Lance tried, sitting up eagerly. Well, that was a dumb mistake; a head rush took over him and he grunted, putting a hand to his head and shutting his eyes.

Keith eyed him skeptically, wondering why Lance was suddenly so insistent about speaking to Shiro _later_. He took a full-blown glance at the boy and sure enough, he looked distressed. A palm was to his forehead, eyes closed tightly, eyebrows drawn in discomfort. However, physical ailments were not what Keith was wondering about; oh no. It was the fact that, during his sleep, Lance kept mumbling incoherent nothings.  Keith passed it off as just a restless sleep, but Lance looked rested enough, and the fact that he, for once, did _not_ want to talk to Shiro was a bit…odd.

“Why?” The Red Paladin asked, narrowing his eyes.

Lance opened his eyes and dropped his hand to his side, sighing. He _really_ did not want to talk to Shiro about his dream. Why couldn’t he just leave it? In fact, why couldn’t they just leave _him_? He’d surely call for help if he felt seriously off, but he doubted he needed to be babysat 24/7. He loved attention normally, but this was getting a bit ridiculous.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Lance said simply, voice small. Keith huffed.

“Well, he’ll want to see you regardless, after what happened.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. After _what_ happened? However, before he could ask Keith what he meant, Shiro walked in. The leader seemed like he was about to tell Keith something but paused when he saw Lance sitting up, and smiled instead.

“Lance, you’re up! How’re you feeling?” He asked, walking over to the two.

“Is there something I’m missing?” Lance asked, responding to Shiro’s question with an inquiry of his own. Shiro seemed displeased by his answer and folded his arms, face serious.

“You don’t remember?” He questioned.

“Remember what?”

Shiro looked over at Keith, but the younger just shrugged.

“Coran found you unconscious in the hallway headed to the hangars.” Shiro explained, voice calm. “He was very shocked. You were in pretty bad shape, too.”

“That doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Keith added, “you were like, scary bad.” He explained, a small blush creeping onto his features.

“Unconscious? I—”

 _Whoosh_. It all came flooding in. The castle’s alarms, the Galra fleets, Shiro telling him to stay put, him ripping out his I.V., running into the halls…and that’s where it became fuzzy. His eyes widened, suddenly panicked. Coran, of all people, found him? Did Coran think he was weak, now? Or was he frightened at Lance’s state? Did the advisor think any less of him? Did he know he disobeyed Shiro’s direct orders? What if _Shiro_ was mad that he disobeyed his direct orders?! And what did Keith think? That he was pathetic? Keith would have stayed put. Keith would have listened to reason. Keith always listens to reason—wait, no. He does the opposite. Keith acts on impulse. Yeah, maybe Keith wouldn’t have listened to Shiro, then. Huh. Maybe he didn’t have to feel so bad after all. But what about—

“Lance?” Shiro was waving a hand in front of the injured boy’s face, snapping him out of his trance.

“Oh, sorry.” He said quietly. “Um, am I in trouble?”

“Relax, kiddo.” Shiro assured, putting a hand to his shoulder. “You’re not in trouble, but don’t do that again. Coran was pretty shaken at what happened.” He explained, releasing his hold. “What were you thinking?” He asked seriously.

Lance fumbled with his thumbs, staring down at the bedsheets. The answer wasn’t that simple. Well, sort of? Lance knew what he was thinking for sure. He was thinking that he didn’t want to burden the team, that he should be able to help despite a tiny little wound, that he was fine, that he was strong enough to do it, that he didn’t always have to rely on someone else to accomplish something.

Lance was thinking he could actually be _useful_ for once.

What made his answer complicated was that, at the same time, he _knew_ he wasn’t well enough to fight. He knew he had quite literally just been told he had anxiety. He knew he was still not 100% emotionally stable. He knew his wound was making him slow, tired, cranky and bedridden—which was making him even more slow, tired and cranky.

So, yeah, what the _fuck_ was he thinking?

“I just wanted to help.” He said finally.

“You could have made things much worse had you actually made it to your lion.” Shiro informed softly. Before he could continue, however, Keith butted in.

“He already _did_ make things much worse!” He exclaimed arms gesturing towards Lance.

“What does that mean?” Lance spat, features encased with anger.

“Keith—” Again, Shiro was cut off.

“It _means_ that we just spent the last five _days_ making sure you wouldn’t _die_ , moron!” He said, exasperated. Was that a hint of  _worry_ in his tone?

Lance’s eyes widened in shock. Last he remembered, he had been in bed for three days. Had he now been injured for an additional five?

“What?” Lance spoke softly, looking at Keith longingly. “Five days?” Keith was about to retort once more but Shiro gently pushed him to the side, taking the metaphorical spotlight from him in the process.

“When you passed out, you didn’t wake up until just now; and it’s been five days.” Shiro explained carefully, worried he might upset the boy. “Your numbers have been pretty stable, but every now and then you had—we assumed you had—a nightmare.”

Lance shut his eyes again, sighing and straightening himself to sit up properly. He didn’t really remember any bad dreams—just the really bad one from, apparently, over five days ago.

“Well, I’m fine. I think.” He replied, opening his eyes and looking at the Black Paladin. Shiro nodded and turned to Keith, muttering something to him and causing the latter to walk out with a “tch, fine”. Shiro took ownership of the chair and put his elbows on his knees, interlocking his hands and placing his chin on them.

“You think?” Shiro said in a low tone, one eyebrow raised. “What happened five days ago, Lance? And please don’t brush it off or lie.”

Lance truly looked like her was considering telling Shiro about his dream. About fucking up yet another simu—wait, that was a _real_ rescue mission. About fucking up so hard he owed the school two k. About the fact that he felt useless unless he was with someone else. About the fact that that dream left him feeling empty and worthless more than ever.

“Had a bad dream.” He said finally.

“Yes, that you mentioned. I meant tell me about it.” Shiro clarified.

“Messed up a rescue mission. Crashed the pod. Team wasn’t there. Was on conditional standing for messing up so hard, and I owed the Garrison two grand.” Should he go on? Should he tell Shiro the part that _really_ tore him apart?

“Go on,” Shiro urged, as if knowing there was more to it. Lance sighed and swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten and his eyes water.

“Uh, th-then everyone started to show up,” Lance continued, “Keith, Pidge, Hunk, the works.” He sniffed loudly, trying to supress his tears. “Um. They said I was, that I would have failed whether it was a simulator or not. That I belonged on the ground, that I shouldn’t have been a fighter class pilot—”

“You were fighter class?” Shiro interrupted, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. Lance, however, didn’t give in, and simply nodded meekly. Shiro made a ‘wow’ expression, but allowed the boy to continue nonetheless.

“That I shouldn’t have been fighter class, that I should have been kicked out of the Garrison, th-that Keith…that the only reason I was fighter class was b-because Keith got, he got kicked out, and I, I only took his spot because he was a drop out, I didn’t _deserve_ to be fighter class?” Tears rolled down his cheeks at this point, but he hardly took notice. His voice wavered with each stutter, pulling at Shiro’s heartstrings. “And. And were they wrong? I don’t…they weren’t wrong. I-I didn’t—I _don’t_ —deserve it. All I do is screw up, like they, like they said. I’m—? I’m not sure how—?” He sucked in a breath quickly before letting out a sob, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. He couldn’t continue, sobs and cries now wracking his airway. His breath came out quick and laboured, hitching every time he tried to suck in more than a millisecond’s worth of air.

Shiro opened the drawer to the nightstand next to him and took out a water pouch, popping in the straw and handing it to Lance. The latter took it weakly, sipping it in between sobs. His leader put a reassuring hand on his back, rubbing slowly to calm him down.

“Lance, buddy...” Shiro said sadly, not sure where to start. “So you tried to prove to us—or yourself—that you’re useful? Is that what you tried to do?” He asked, concerned. He received a small nod in reply. He sighed, wishing there was more he could do. “You don’t have anything to prove, Lance.” He began, hoping for a better pep talk than last time. “You’re much more valuable to us than you think. You make us laugh, you’re lively, you keep us entertained, _and_ you’re a great shot. Not to mention you were fighter class. I didn’t even know! That’s amazing, Lance!” Shiro exclaimed, smiling. This drew Lance’s attention and the younger pilot looked up at him expectantly, teary-eyed and still sipping on the straw from the water pouch. “ _You’re_ amazing, Lance. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. Please believe me when I say that.” He added, hoping his words could help, even if only a little.

Lance finally took the pouch away from his lips and breathed in and out heavily, having calmed down some. It felt good—really good—to have someone saying such nice words.

“You mean it?” He questioned, eyes never leaving Shiro’s. The elder nodded.

“Of course. And listen, everyone has nightmares. Trust me, I know how you feel, unfortunately.” Shiro said, frowning some. “If you ever wake up in the middle of the night, don’t be scared to wake someone up. Come to me, to Keith, to Hunk, even Pidge if you need to. Nobody will tell you off, I promise.”

“Thank you, Shiro.” Lance said after a moment of silence. “Again,” he added, thinking of a few days ago.

“It’s really not a problem at all, Lance. I told you this already but don’t hide things from us. We’re all a team now, and we’re going to have to learn to trust each other more—all of us, really.” He paused, thinking about something. “And, to be honest, we might have to learn to show appreciation a bit more, too.” He said, straightening up and crossing one leg over the other. “Especially to you. I can see why you may have been worried, buddy. I’m sorry if I haven’t been saying it enough, but I really do appreciate you being on the team, and I’m sure everyone else would agree.”

Lance practically beamed, chocking back on another sob.

“Thank you!” He said, voice cracking.

“Anytime, kiddo.”

* * *

 

“How is he?” Keith questioned when Shiro walked into the lounge and plopped down on a couch.

“He’ll be alright.” Shiro replied. “But we have some work to do.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was rly short i am so sorry


	9. It's Better To Taco 'Bout It (And Make Food Puns)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in what feels like forever, Hunk and Lance have a chat--but not before the rest of the team shower him with how much they missed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI IM BACK im soooo sorry for like. leaving this unattended. i still get kudos pretty much every day, so i want to thank everyone who hasnt given up on this yet!! im still as busy with school as ever, but i feel like ill be able to work a bit more on this considering its whats keeping me relaxed during my internships.. :') its nearing the end anyway, so there isnt much more left to look forward to, unfortunately. i also just kinda lose interest when i need to start writing the comfort in hurt/comfort fics lmao...anyway enjoy whateverthefuckthisis, and im sorry its so short!!! thanks again so much for all the kudos, all ur patience, and all ur dedication guys <3

“He’s awake?!”

“Finally!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news!”

“Spectacular!”

Shiro smiled, grateful that everyone was on the same page about Lance being awake: happy. Hunk, Pidge, Allura and Coran had all met up with Shiro and Keith in the lounge not too long after Shiro had had his TalkTM with Lance.

“It’s supposed to be my shift now, but we should all go an’ see ‘im!” Coran exclaimed happily. _Finally_ , he could tell Lance _alllllllllllllll_ about—

“Sweet; I miss my best bud!” Hunk said, beaming. “I’ve tried like, six different recipes for cookies and I think I finally found one he’d like~.” He continued, running out of the room giddily and making his way to the kitchen.

“I’ve figured out how to stream Spotify from here,” Pidge added, to which everyone looked at her in either disbelief or confusion.

“You didn’t,” Keith said, crossing his arms.

“Oh, I did.” Pidge replied, smirking.

“We’re lightyears away; how is that possible?” Shiro asked, raising an eyebrow. Pidge adjusted her glasses so that the light from the room reflected off of them.

“I’m _amazing_ , that’s how.” She informed. “Lance is gonna love it.” She added, looking back at the others.

“What is a… _Spotify_?” Allura questioned, raising a finger.

“How do you _stream_ something? Isn’t a stream something on your Earth that runs water?” Coran added, also holding up a finger. Pidge deadpanned.

“Never mind. I miss Lance. He wouldn’t have asked so many questions.”

* * *

Lance was flipping through the book Keith had left on the nightstand when he heard voices coming from down the hall. To be honest, he wasn’t really up to having six other faces and hands all over him, asking if he was alright or hungry or tired or _whatever_ . Sure, he loved attention, but not attention for something _negative_ . He wanted attention for good shots, smart ideas, or quick thinking. _Not_ for being weak or injured or sick.

He sighed to himself, looking up from the book and eyeing the door. Sure enough, it slid up and his team walked through. He could already feel the awkward from a mile away—how else was he supposed to feel while trapped in a bed as his teammates walked in on him freely?

“Lance! _My boy_!” Coran exclaimed, arms up in the air dramatically. Everyone else was about to shout their greetings too, but Coran went on. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up! I ‘ave so many stories I wanna tell ya!” He said, smiling.

“Coran, I don’t think now is the time for your… _tales_.” Allura added, face twisted in disgust.

“Lance! Look what I made!” Hunk pushed through, ignoring the others. In his hands was a small plate toppled with cookies—some were bright orange, some were basically black (Hunk assured the others a million times that, no, they were not burnt), and some were lumpy and blue. “They don’t really look appetizing, but holy crow, wait until you try the lumpy ones!” He informed, barely containing his excitement.

“You think that’s cool?” Pidge challenged from behind him. Hunk moved to the side so that he wouldn’t block her, and she stepped forward, tall and proud. “I know how to stream Spotify from here. _Spotify_!” She announced, almost shrieking.

Lance blinked twice before doubling over and laughing. The others shared confused glances before looking back at the Blue Paladin, who was by then sitting straight again and wiping tears from his eyes. Coran fumbled over himself, stepping forward.

“Lance! You’re crying!” He said, pointing at Lance as if he was guilty of committing a crime. “Why are you in distress?!” He added, pointing to his own face and pretending to frown.

Finally catching his breath in between giggles, Lance smiled at him.

“It’s happy crying, Coran. Don’t worry.” He explained. “You guys are funny.” He added.

“How so?” Allura asked, “I did not think any of what we just did consisted of anything to laugh about.”

“You Alteans and your sense of humour,” Hunk replied, turning around to face the beings in question. “Or, rather, lack thereof.” He corrected, holding out a finger.

“I don’t understand, but I’m glad you’re laughing, Lance.” Allura said, smiling and holding her hands together.

“Aye! We missed our Blue Paladin,” Coran agreed, leaning over quickly to give Lance a quick rub on the head.

“Thanks, guys.” Lance replied, smile ever so bright. “And by the way, Pidge has you beat, Hunk. Sorry.” He said, shrugging. “What she did shouldn’t physically be possible, so.”

“I thought so. Streams are water, not verbs!” Coran muttered, hands to his hips and nodding to himself.

Hunk’s form drooped some, disappointed.

“What I did is physically impossible, too!” He whined, waving his plate of cookies in front of him.

“We are literal lightyears away from Earth, and Pidge managed to somehow connect to the Internet from there. That’s pretty lit.” Lance elaborated, looking over at Pidge. “I won’t ask how you did it, tough. Not exactly sure I wanna know.”

“Ha!” Pidge said triumphantly. “I knew he wouldn’t ask questions!”

“And I knew I wasn’t the only one finding it odd that it was possible while lightyears away from Earth.” Shiro added, cupping his chin. “Fascinating.”

“So now that the welcome committee is over,” Keith said suddenly, earning six glances in his direction, “how about we actually make sure this loser’s okay.” He suggested, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the computer behind them. Immediately, Coran walked over to the computer, Pidge on his trail.

At the mention of his wellbeing, Lance lifted the bottom of the shirt (that had apparently changed during his comatose state) to check his wound. The bandage was now much smaller, making the injury seem like nothing more than a few scratches.

“Whoa, when did this happen?” Lance asked, amazed at how fast the healing process was.

“The belladov is an extraordinary plant,” Allura said, smiling, “it works rather quickly.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Lance replied, still awed.

“And ‘e seems to be doing very well!” Coran called from the computer, holding a thumbs up high and proud. He continued to a scroll a moment before frowning, however. “Physically, that is.” He continued scrolling and hummed. “Hm, yes. This makes sense.” Everyone turned to look at him, now, confused. “Ah! Yes. Of course.” He continued scrolling, unaware of his audience. “Hm… ah, yes, yes.”

“Do you mind sharing, Coran?” Allura asked, trying to keep the smile on her face.

“Well, firstly,” Coran started, “he is doing heaps better than a few days ago.” He said happily. From behind him, Pidge smiled, as well. “There are still a few warning signs here and there, though. Hunk is in charge of said warning signs, so I’ve heard?” Coran said, raising an eyebrow at the Yellow Paladin. The boy in question shuffled in place, but nodded nonetheless. He hadn’t done anything as of yet, considering Lance’s out-of-commission state for five days. Pleased with this information, Coran nodded to himself. “Very well, there seems to be nothing else out of the ordinary, Lance. Vitals are fine, and your wound should be fully healed by… tomorrow, actually!” To this, Lance beamed, collapsing backwards into the bed and spreading his arms out.

“It’s about time,” he said, stretching, “I think all my muscles have deteriorated from being in bed for so long,” he added, sitting back up again.

“That, and we’ve had three more Galra attacks while you’ve been out,” Keith informed, smirking. “We handled it, of course, but we kinda… miss forming Voltron.” He said, eyeing Hunk who wasn’t too far from him. Hunk pointed to Keith and nodded.

“Yup. This is true.” He agreed, voice monotone.

“Well, I suggest that if we want Lance to be up and flimbing by tomorrow, we must let him rest!” Coran exclaimed, walking over to the others, Pidge following.

“Flimbing?” The Green Paladin questioned, looking up at him.

“I wouldn’t ask,” Keith said quickly, “the last time you asked, Pidge…”

“Yikes,” Hunk added, visibly shuddering. “No thanks.”

Pidge’s mouth formed a small ‘o’, but she was too late, and Coran was already babbling about what ‘flimbing’ meant. Allura sighed, dragging him out of the door and calling to the others over her shoulder. By the time the team could no longer hear Coran’s pleas from the hallway, they laughed for what felt like the first time in months.

* * *

The reunion had been heartwarming, but as Lance was in his current state, he was still very tired, and fell asleep rather quickly. The so-called ‘shifts’ had since been re-imagined; they took turns simply checking in on the boy instead of having someone constantly at his side. Coran was hesitant about this decision, but Lance was all for it, and as he was the Paladin in question, what he said went.

When Lance woke up next, the Altean alarm clock on the nightstand told him it was around eight at night. The others were probably just finishing up dinner, and he expected someone to come in and check on him at any moment. Sitting up, he stretched and swung his legs over the bed, ever so softly banging them against the mattress. He whistled to himself some, waiting for whoever was on their way.

He was bored. _So_ bored.

So when Hunk came in a few minutes later, Lance couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto his features.

“Hunk, buddy, pal, _amigo_.” Lance greeted happily, re-positioning himself back on the bed. Hunk held his hand up, returning the greeting. In the other hand was a plate of what the Blue Paladin assumed to be some remnants of dinner. Hunk handed the plate to Lance and sat on the end of the bed.

“How’s it goin’?” Hunk asked, nodding towards the plate. “Hungry?”

“Fine,” Lance replied, picking up the fork from the plate. He grimaced when some food goo stretched up with his movement, and he put the fork back down and handed the dish back to his friend. “And uh, not really, no.” To this, Hunk laughed.

“But _I_ made it!” He offered, practically shoving the plate in Lance’s general direction.

“Oh? I guess I can’t refuse, then.”

Lance grabbed the fork again and spooned himself a portion of the food. To his surprise, it wasn’t half-bad. He _did_ miss Hunk’s Earth cooking, though…

He remembered days in elementary school when bake sales were still a thing. He and Hunk would stay up until the sun poked its head through the clouds, making cookies and brownies and muffins. They always sold the most amount of baked goods, therefore always raising the most amount of money for the school. They had two bake sales a year, and Lance swore that those two nights were the best that the year had to offer—other than Christmas Eve, of course.

Hunk’s mothers had even showed up a few times, volunteering to help out during the busy rush of bake sale days. Lance’s mother joined too, every now and then, which eventually led to the three parents meeting for the first time.

“Ear—uh, Castle of Lions to Lance,” Hunk said suddenly, waving a hand in front of Lance. The pilot blinked slowly before snapping his attention to his friend.

“Oh, man, sorry Hunk.” He said sadly. He looked down at his plate, only to realise had yet to take a second bite. The texture of the goo left his stomach churning, and he frowned some. “I’m really not that hungry, though.” He explained, gently placing the plate on Hunk’s lap. The taller boy looked at him, worried, before sighing. He placed the dish on the nightstand beside them and brought both his legs onto the bed, crossing them and putting his arms in his lap.

“What’s wrong?” Hunk asked, tone serious.

“I’m just…” Lance sighed, laying down and turning over, back facing Hunk. He knew his friend understood how he couldn’t always talk directly at someone, so he didn’t bother explaining himself with more than just a few words. “Missing home, I guess.”

Hunk thought a moment, wanting to say the best thing he could. His team—and Lance—trusted him in this kind of thing, so he wanted to prove their point correct and help as best as he could.

“Yeah, the food, right?” Hunk asked, eyes soft. Lance nodded. “I feel ya. This food is… holy crow, it’s bad. I didn’t think something so little could have such a big impact on daily life, to be honest.” Hunk admitted, sitting up straight.

“ _The_ Hunk, saying food is something ‘little’? Dude, I wouldn’t be surprised if you got accepted to _Chopped_ or _Hell’s Kitchen_.” Lance said, grinning.

“Well, yeah, it’s not little. But for real. It’s just one aspect of our lives that’s making me the most homesick.” Hunk argued, smiling back at his friend.

“I agree, it’s weird.” Lance replied.

“I mean, I guess it makes sense. Something we did three times a day almost every day—and that’s _not_ including snack breaks.”

“Dude, right? Something we spend most of our time doing, other than sleeping. No wonder it’s messing us up so much.”

“Heck yeah. It makes such a difference.” Hunk agreed, nodding.

The two then sighed, slumping their shoulders.

“Hunk?” Lance said after a moment of silence.

“Hm?”

“This sucks and all, but it feels good to talk about it. Especially with you. Thanks.”

Hunk smiled ear to ear and he practically jumped forward into Lance’s arms, his own wide and open before wrapping themselves around Lance tightly. The Blue Paladin was shocked for a moment, but he relaxed into Hunk’s hug, returning the favour. It felt good—he couldn’t remember the last time he had experienced a true, sincere hug.

  
Try as he may, but he was still so,  _so_ tired, and so Lance drifted off in the comfort of Hunk's strong, welcoming grip.  



End file.
